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MAN-BUILDING 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 A TREATISE ON HUMAN LIFE 
 AND ITS FORCES 
 
 BY 
 
 LEWIS RANSOM FISKE^lili;!): 
 
 Ill > > 
 
 5 O O 1 • ) 
 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS 
 
 1901 
 
THE LIBRARY OF 
 
 CONGRESS, 
 Two Copies Recetveo 
 
 MAR 20 1901 
 
 Cpi»VR»«HT ENTRY 
 
 CLASS ^XXc. N* 
 COPY B. 
 
 
 Copyright, 1901, by 
 /'CJHARLES SGillE^ER'S SONS 
 
 TROW DIRECTORY 
 
 PRINTING AND BOOKBINDING COMPANY 
 
 HEW YORK 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The author has sought a title for this book 
 which would clearly express its character. From 
 infancy to mature years there is built up a phys- 
 ical and mental structure which occupies a place 
 of special honor in the world of being. Man is 
 "but little lower than God." This statement is 
 based on the high order of his powers. But he 
 begins life in a condition of utter feebleness. He 
 is, when he reaches manhood, so much more than 
 the new-born child because of the operation of a 
 building process which must be carried forward 
 strictly under prescribed laws of development, if 
 the largest results be obtained. 
 
 This is not a text-book, but a book for general 
 reading. Yet it embraces the broad principles 
 of three distinct but interrelated departments of 
 science — the psychological, the physiological, and 
 the sociological — all belonging to human life. 
 The faculties of the mind are here presented, 
 their functions unfolded, and the methods of their 
 training carefully stated. The mind acts through 
 
PREFACE 
 
 the body and is acted upon by the body. The 
 offices of this physical structure need to be un- 
 derstood and its reactive power considered. And 
 each individual is not only an individual but an 
 inseparable component of the race. Without the 
 world about him man's life would be sadly and 
 fatally incomplete. Any attempt to understand 
 the individual in the absence of society with its 
 institutions, the privileges it presents, and the 
 duties it exacts, must be a failure. 
 
 The purpose of this book is to aid the young 
 in developing their powers up toward the fullest 
 measure of capacity, and to assist the teacher in 
 supervising the work of his pupils in their prep- 
 aration for the duties of life. There have been 
 many able scientific works given to the public on 
 Psychology, on Physiology, and on Sociology, but 
 none of them have combined a discussion of the 
 broad principles belonging to these several de- 
 partments of truth in their bearing practically on 
 manhood. The aim of these works has been 
 simply scientific, not directive as to character or 
 to aid in the gaining of the noblest and most effi- 
 cient life. The author has sought to answer the 
 question, what can be done to help young people 
 develop and use the powers of their being for 
 their highest good ? In carrying out our purpose 
 the mind is analyzed, the functions of the powers 
 
 vi 
 
PEEFACE 
 
 pointed out, and the methods of development 
 given. The laws and forces of life are sought to 
 be clearly defined, bringing us face to face with 
 the privileges offered and the duties imposed. 
 He who would make the most of himself must 
 understand what his powers are and how they 
 should be employed ; what his opportunities are 
 and how they can be utilized. This book has a 
 positive practical aim in man-building. 
 
 yu 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 INTRODUCTORY 
 
 CHAPTER 
 
 I. **Know Thyself" 
 
 II. Man's Dualistic Nature .... 
 
 III. The Body a Servant of the Mind 
 
 IV. The Body an Instrument of Knowledge 
 
 PAGE 
 
 3 
 
 6 
 
 10 
 
 14 
 
 
 PART FIRST 
 
 
 
 PSYCHOLOGICAL 
 
 
 V. 
 
 Analysis of Mental Life 
 
 21 
 
 VI. 
 
 Mental Potentiality .... 
 
 25 
 
 VII. 
 
 Passing from the Potential to the 
 
 
 
 Actual 
 
 29 
 
 VIII. 
 
 The Light of Consciousness . 
 
 32 
 
 IX. 
 
 The Philosophy of Attention 
 
 36 
 
 X. 
 
 The Training of Attention .. 
 
 39 
 
 XI. 
 
 First Forms of Knowledge . 
 
 44 
 
 XII. 
 
 First Forms of Knowledge— Continued . 
 
 49 
 
 XIII. 
 
 Intellectual Training of the Child . 
 
 54 
 
 XIV. 
 
 Mental Growth 
 
 58 
 
 IX 
 
TABLE OF CONTiENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XV. Second Forms of Knowledge. {Mem- 
 ory) 62 
 
 XVI. Second Forms of Knowledge— Con- 
 tinued. {Association in the Action of 
 Memory) 68 
 
 XVII. Second Forms of Knowledge— Con- 
 tinued. [The Life as Perpetuated by 
 
 Memory) 72 
 
 XVIII. Second Forms of Knowledge— Con- 
 tinued. (Reproduction as Imagina- 
 tion) . . . . . . .77 
 
 XIX. Second Forms of Knowledge— Con- 
 tinued. {Use and Abuse of Imagina- 
 tion) 83 
 
 XX. Third Forms of Knowledge. {First 
 
 Step — Concepts) 88 
 
 XXI. Third Forms of Knowledge — Con- 
 tinued. (Second Step — Judgments) . 93 
 
 XXII. Third Forms of Knowledge — Con- 
 tinued. (Third Step— Reasoning) . 98 
 
 XXIII. The Logic of Deeds . . . .104 
 
 XXIV. Training of the Powers of Thought 109 
 
 XXV. Fourth Forms of Knowledge. (First 
 
 Principles) 114 
 
 XXVI. Fourth Forms of Knowledge— Con- 
 tinued. (First Principles) . . .120 
 
 XXVII. Fourth Forms of Knowledge — Con- 
 tinued. (The First Cause) . . .125 
 
 XXVIII. The Sceptre of the Heart . . 130 
 
 XXIX. Feelings Discriminated . . .134 
 
 XXX. Equipment of Feelings . . .140 
 
 X 
 
TABLE OP CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 XXXI. Control and TRAiNiNa of the 
 
 Feelings 145 
 
 XXXII. Involuntary Activities . . . 150 
 
 XXXIII. Will Defined 154 
 
 XXXIV. Dependence of Will . . .158 
 XXXV. Motives 162 
 
 XXXVI. Volitions are Caused . . .166 
 
 XXXVII. The Symmetry of Mental Life . 170 
 
 XXXVIII. Character 174 
 
 XXXIX. Training of the Will . . .179 
 
 XL. The Office of Conscience . . 183 
 
 XLI. The Training of Conscience . .187 
 
 XLII. The Power of Convictions . .192 
 
 XLIII. The Spiritual . . . . .196 
 
 PART SECOND 
 
 PHYSIOLOGICAL 
 
 XLIV. Integrity and Differentiation of 
 
 THE Body 203 
 
 XLV. The Care of the Body . . .206 
 
 XLVI. Brain Forces 211 
 
 XL VII. Development in the Field of the 
 
 Physical 216 
 
 XLVIII. Persistence of Developed Forces 219 
 
 XLIX. Heredity 225 
 
 L. Impairing the Energies of Life . 229 
 LI. Interaction of Mind and Body in 
 
 THE Sphere of Morals . . . 234 
 xi 
 
TABLE OP CONTENTS 
 
 PART THIRD 
 
 SOCIOLOGICAL 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 LII. Community Life 241 
 
 LIII. MARRIAaE 244 
 
 LIV. Childhood 251 
 
 LV. School Training 258 
 
 LVI. Education by Contact .... 265 
 
 LVII. The Printed Page 271 
 
 LVIII. Influences of Travel . . o . 278 
 LIX. Commerce ane Industries . . . 285 
 
 LX. The City and the Country . . .291 
 
 LXI. Political Forces 299 
 
 LXII. The Church as a Sociological Or- 
 ganism 306 
 
 THE GATHERED THREADS 
 LXIII. The Complete Man 317 
 
 xu 
 
INTRODUCTORY 
 
CHAPTEE I 
 
 ''KNOW THYSELF" 
 
 Pope has said, "The proper study of mankind 
 is man." The theme is the most comprehensive 
 of all themes of study next to that of the Supreme 
 Being. Because of his exalted nature God has 
 " given him dominion over the works of his hands." 
 Such distinguished honor conferred by the Creator, 
 who cannot make a mistake in judgment, would 
 naturally turn our attention to the powers of him 
 who is thus ^^ crowned with glory and honor." 
 
 In the few thousands of years in which man has 
 been an inhabitant of the earth he has wrought 
 out diverse and marvellous results. History is a 
 record of his deeds. He has displayed irrepressi- 
 ble energy of action. Possessing a social nature 
 communities have come into being, governments 
 organized, laws enacted, and the boundaries of 
 nations prescribed. Eestless and ambitious he 
 has waged wars, blood has flowed like water, na- 
 tional rights have been both defended and tram- 
 pled under foot. Centres of civil and military 
 authority have been established and then swept 
 
 3 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 away by the strong arm of power. Different forms 
 of civilization have arisen and been supplanted by 
 something that was new. The face of the earth 
 has been transformed by art which man has de- 
 veloped. The forests have been levelled, the soil 
 cultivated for the production of food, cities built, 
 railroads devised and operated, steamships con- 
 structed, oceans navigated, commerce opened be- 
 tween widely separated countries, and the desert 
 literally made to blossom as the rose. 
 
 Man has penetrated to the very heart of nature, 
 and unearthed the secrets she had hidden away 
 since the dawn of creation. Science is his reading 
 of the great systems of truth God has ordained. To 
 him " the heavens declare the glory of God, and 
 the firmament showeth His handiwork." He has 
 found out what God has been thinking about, for 
 he has traced His handwriting on the earth and 
 sky. He has justified the declaration that in pow- 
 ers of thought he was made in the divine image. 
 He has gone farther than this even, he has scaled 
 the battlements of time and caught visions of a 
 future world. Eeason tells him there is an immor- 
 tality of being, that life here, even in its fullest 
 measure, is incomplete, and that it points to a sub- 
 lime destiny in an eternal hereafter. A being 
 possessed of such powers, penetrating so deeply 
 into the constitution of things, working out such a 
 wonderful history, cherishing such sublime hopes 
 presents to us in his nature a subject for study 
 
 4 
 
KNOWING ONE'S SELF 
 
 which must be attractive, and in the highest degree 
 instructive. 
 
 And the importance, the interest of this subject 
 to the student of human nature is that it is per- 
 solial, that he who studies the race is studying 
 himself, and that he who is studying himself is 
 studying the powers, ambitions, and fundamental 
 principles on which all society is built, himself the 
 microcosm making known the macrocosm. Know- 
 ing himself he knows the great world, the human 
 universe. The extent and the certitude of his 
 knowledge depend on the extent and reliability of 
 the powers of knowing. Knowledge is the measure 
 of the applied capability of knowing. The student 
 studies the life of himself, by virtue of which life 
 he is a student. And knowing, he seeks to under- 
 stand how he knows ; feeling, the laws of feeling ; 
 doing, the conditions of personal activity. The 
 result is that he is intelligent as to himself ; self 
 is no longer a mysterious energy, an unread book. 
 Understanding his powers he knows what he can 
 do ; understanding the laws of action of his facul- 
 ties he sees how to proceed; looking forward 
 to a future he is able to determine its degree of 
 rationality. 
 
 Finding also the laws of progress he is able to 
 make progress. He sees how the growth of ener- 
 gies may be intelligently carried forward. The 
 supreme interest of life is its development, to be- 
 come what we are capable of becoming ; to secure 
 
 5 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 as large a measure of the human as it is possible 
 to gain. We need to know the order and work of 
 man-building if we would rear the most perfect 
 temple of life. He who remains a riddle to him- 
 self when the solution is within his reach is unwise. 
 
 CHAPTEE II 
 
 MAN'S DUALISTIC NATURE 
 
 No conception of man is complete or adequate 
 which does not recognize his dualistic nature. In 
 the human person there is both mind and body. 
 Our entire ignorance of the condition and life of a 
 disembodied spirit renders it impossible to predi- 
 cate any reliable statement in regard to the facts, 
 or the action of spiritual forces, in a state wholly 
 dissevered from material realities. Not doubting 
 that the soul has a future when the body, as we 
 here know it, is laid aside, yet it is our purpose to 
 consider the human being as existing in and sub- 
 ject to the relations we sustain in this world. 
 
 God has created two dissimilar primary sub- 
 stances, matter and spirit. Matter, subject to in- 
 numerable forms of combination, is made known 
 to us by its properties ; spirit is revealed by its 
 attributes. Matter has spatial dimensions — length, 
 breadth, and thickness; spirit does not possess 
 
 6 
 
MAWS DUALISTIC NATURE 
 
 spatial magnitude, but manifests intensive energy 
 — energy of knowing, feeling, willing. But in put- 
 ting man as a spirit on the earth the Creator linked 
 him with the material universe by means of a 
 physical — a physiological or organic — ^nature. The 
 body is the house the spirit occupies ; more than 
 this, it is an instrument the spirit uses in perform- 
 ing its functions ; further still, it reacts on the 
 spirit or unites with it in bringing mental products 
 or states into existence. While it would be irra- 
 tional to hold that brain is mind, yet mental 
 action depends on the brain. The absence or de- 
 rangement of the gray matter of the brain destroys 
 or impairs the action of the mind. 
 
 To be more specific, the body performs four of- 
 fices in its relations with the human spirit. 
 
 1st. The brain localizes the spirit, securing for 
 it a definite position in space for the exercise of its 
 energies. 
 
 2d. The brain is a medium of mental action, a 
 material organism co-operating with spirit in bring- 
 ing mental products into existence. 
 
 3d. The body is the servant of the mind which 
 controls this physiological structure in the perfor- 
 mance of its various offices through the brain and 
 general nervous system. 
 
 4th. The soul or spirit gains a knowledge of 
 material objects through sight, hearing, touch, and 
 the other senses, all of which depend on the brain 
 as an innervating nervous centre, and through this 
 
 7 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 nervous organism the mind is impressed, stimu- 
 lated, and becomes intelligent. 
 
 The word soul, as we use the term, does not 
 mean simply spirit, but embodied spirit, or spirit 
 that has been embodied. We do not call angels 
 souls because we do not know that they have a 
 physical organization. The life they live is not 
 supposed to depend upon or to be connected with 
 any material structure. God we know to be pure 
 spirit, and as such we speak of Him and worship 
 Him. 
 
 We do not base our belief in the dualistic nature 
 of man on our ability to solve the problem of such 
 a nature, but on the diverse powers and manifesta- 
 tions of our life. The body is an object of sense, 
 like all material things, but we are conscious of 
 thoughts, feelings, volitions ; of hopes, fears, love, 
 hatred — innumerable products of our life — which 
 can nowhere be traced in nature as properties of 
 matter. The mode of union of soul and body is 
 certainly a mystery which, probably, we will never 
 be able to unravel. Our inability to find the link 
 by which soul and body are united does not make 
 the fact of such unity, in any degree, uncertain. 
 In everything, when we come to the last analysis, 
 there is mystery. How the animal body in its nu- 
 trition and growth tears the compounds which 
 comprise its food in pieces, and builds up its mus- 
 cles, bones, and nerves no one can tell. How the 
 plant constructs woody fibre out of the gases of 
 
 B 
 
MAWS DUALISTIC NATUEE 
 
 the air and the earthy material of the soil, science 
 is unable to make known to us. How light wings 
 its way through space and pictures on the retina 
 of the eye an image of the object from which it 
 emanates is inscrutable to the keenest intellect. 
 ' The materialist, who affirms that man is wholly 
 a material being, makes a monstrous assumption 
 in putting mental powers and products among the 
 forces and properties of matter. He takes a tre- 
 mendous leap from that which is known in the 
 physical world to that which is nowhere deter- 
 mined in material things, and sets at naught all 
 principles of inductive logic. Underneath his in- 
 ferences there are no premises. And, again, the 
 idealist who discards matter, making the body and 
 all other manifestations of what we call matter, to 
 be only an outer form of the mental life — spirit 
 the only substance and matter simply phenomenal 
 — not only insults our senses but undermines all 
 physical science. Idealism, like materialism, is a 
 bald assumption, a speculative theory outside of the 
 field of both psychological and physical investiga- 
 tions. In the life and activities of man we find two 
 wholly unlike classes of powers and products which 
 can be accounted for only on the ground of a dual- 
 istic nature. "With the fundamental philosophy of 
 the action of the two we have nothing to do ; we 
 must content ourselves with the facts of bodily 
 structure and mental powers clearly determined, 
 the mode of interaction being beyond the reach of 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 all investigation. The origin of both parts of this 
 dualistic nature is synchronous in the inception 
 and birth of the human child. 
 
 CHAPTER III 
 THE BODY A SERVANT OF THE MIND 
 
 The content of the word manhood is found in 
 the mental qualities of a human being, expressive 
 of that which is high in rank, which is noble and 
 worthy of admiration. The body is a servant of 
 the mind : it not only reflects its spirit but it does 
 its bidding. It shares with the mind that which 
 is pure or impure ; it carries out the edicts of the 
 will, responding to the desires of the heart ; and 
 though a servant, it reacts on the inner life to en- 
 slave it or else liberate it from the sway of the 
 passions. The actual man has physical powers 
 and animal impulses from which his manhood 
 cannot be severed. 
 
 The body is a structure of varied capabilities 
 and wonderful adaptations. It contains a system 
 of bones which give form and rigidity, and articu- 
 lated so as, without the sacrifice of strength, to 
 secure flexibility. The bones are covered with 
 muscles, thus providing for both action and loco- 
 motion. There is a nervous system of which the 
 
 10 
 
THE BODY SEEVIKG THE MIND 
 
 brain and spinal cord are the centre, from whicli 
 come the stimulus to action, the power of healthy 
 nutrition, and in sensations connecting the mind 
 with the various parts of this composite structure. 
 There is a digestive apparatus for the conversion 
 of the food into blood. The body has a circula- 
 tory system, of arteries and veins, with the heart 
 as an engine to pump the blood into the lungs, 
 and then, on its return, to send it to every bone, 
 fibre, nerve, and membrane of the body, for nutri- 
 tion and life. It is supplied with a respiratory 
 system for purification of the blood by the action 
 of the air. It possesses provision for innumerable 
 functions having to do with the prolongation of 
 life and the healthy and efficient action of this 
 complex physiological unit. 
 
 It is furnished with a distinct system of nerves 
 whose purpose is to convey the mandates of the 
 mind for such efforts as the mental being requires. 
 Thus the hand, the arm, the foot, the eye, and 
 nearly every part of our physical structure is forced 
 into service to meet the plans and needs of daily 
 life. There are nerves also which prompt move- 
 ments for our good without waiting for an order 
 from the mind — acting under an innate impulse — 
 in the presence of sudden danger. It does not re- 
 quire an effort or command to wink when some 
 object is thrust toward the eye. We shrink or re- 
 coil from danger when surprised by its sudden near 
 approach. This is done before the mind has time to 
 
 11 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 make a definite plan of escape, yet this instinctive 
 action rests back on a mental apprehension of im- 
 pending harm. 
 
 That the body was planned for the realization of 
 important offices in the career of each human being 
 is evident, for illustration, from the structure of the 
 hand. Its position at the outer extremity of the 
 arm ; its flexibility ; the shape, relative size, numer- 
 ous bones and direction of movement of the fin- 
 gers ; the sensitiveness of the finger-tips ; the op- 
 posite position and co-operative functions of the 
 thumb and fingers ; the existence of the palm into 
 which the thumb and fingers can be closed, all of 
 this in agreement with the movement of the fore- 
 arm, attached to the upper arm by a hinge-joint, 
 which upper arm is connected with the body at the 
 shoulder by a ball-and-socket joint, thus providing 
 for the hand a large sweep of motion, with both 
 flexibility and strength, and within the gaze of the 
 organs of vision, so that, through structure and po- 
 sition, there can be intelligent employment of a 
 most extraordinary instrument for mechanical op- 
 erations, in this we find an appliance of marvel- 
 lous range of uses and perfection of powers. Be- 
 cause of his mental capabilities man has such a 
 hand. The animal could not use it, therefore he 
 has not been supplied with it. 
 
 As an artisan, man needed an erect form. "Where 
 instruments are used, even on the lowest plane of 
 physical activity, this is necessary. Could the 
 
 12 
 
THE BODY SERVING THE MIND 
 
 animal invent appliances of industry it could not 
 employ them to any advantage. How would it 
 handle the axe in felling trees ; the jack-plane in 
 smoothing the wood ; the hammer in constructing 
 a building ; the hoe in cultivating corn ; the trowel 
 in plastering a room ? And were man a quadru- 
 ped, bowed down to the earth, not only would his 
 dignity be lowered but his capabilities greatly 
 lessened. He is made erect because he is a man. 
 While the mind can be trained, it is also true 
 that the body can be educated. It is susceptible 
 to influences good and bad. What we call skill in 
 the arts consists of muscles and nerves trained to 
 respond to some mental ideal. A habit is a facility 
 of doing in some particular way, amounting to a 
 tendency. This tendency may be not only mental 
 but physical. The nerves act most fully in the 
 direction in which they have before been employed. 
 The muscles come under the same law. This 
 gives a potency and efficiency to bodily activity 
 which it would not otherwise possess. For the 
 largest and best achievements in life there should 
 be engendered physical habits which are decided 
 and imperious, and in the direction of that which 
 is consonant with intelligent and moral manhood. 
 Man is successful just in proportion to the natural 
 and vigorous movement of his activities along 
 well-established lines for the accomplishment of 
 the best results. The education of the body is 
 necessary for its largest service. 
 
 13 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 CHAPTEE IV 
 
 THE BODY AN INSTEUMENT OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 The nervous system is a medium of communica- 
 tion of mind with the external world. There is no 
 other channel for this association. Supposing 
 mental energies to be in existence, it is believed 
 they would be wholly inactive without the brain ; 
 and even with the brain there would be no knowl- 
 edge of outer material objects in the absence of 
 certain brain-fibres with which the body is sup- 
 plied. These fibres perform a variety of offices, 
 and introduce us to nature in a variety of ways. 
 
 1st. There are nerve-filaments in great number 
 which terminate in the skin. By means of these 
 we become aware of the existence and presence of 
 material objects, through sensations of pressure 
 and temperature. Many qualities of outward 
 things are thus revealed to us, such as smooth- 
 ness, roughness, hardness, etc., in various degrees. 
 "We have sensations of temperature for which 
 "heat spots" and *'cold spots" have definite loca- 
 tions in the skin. Through these nerves we are 
 supplied with information of value to us in ways 
 without number. 
 
 2d. Analogous to the above, but with special 
 development and wider range of use, the tips of 
 
 14 
 
SENSUOUS KNOWLEDGE 
 
 the fingers are exceedingly sensitive as instru- 
 ments of touch. From the number of joints in 
 the fingers and the freedom of local movements, 
 together with the sweep of the arms these nerves 
 of touch are capable of rendering very important 
 service in our daily experience. 
 
 3d. The olfactory nerves, which terminate in 
 the lining membrane of the nostrils, are adapted to 
 reveal the presence and quality of gaseous or vola- 
 tile substances. Through these nerves we have 
 the sense of smell, which, while not very greatly 
 educative and rather restricted in its field of ser- 
 vice, yet both for protection against that which is 
 hurtful, and, at times, a source of real enjoyment, 
 imparts knowledge we could not otherwise acquire. 
 
 4th. There are gustatory nerves terminating in 
 the tongue and soft palate by which we have the 
 sense of taste. Taste is possible only as the sub- 
 stance is or becomes liquid. That which is wholly 
 insoluble is tasteless. Taste is not always a sim- 
 ple sensation, but commonly is modified somewhat 
 by pressure and smell, the relative proportion of 
 the three being not clearly discriminated. 
 
 5th. The organ of hearing is the ear, the outer 
 portion being so constructed as to gather vibra- 
 tions of the air, which vibrations are transmitted to 
 what is called the auditory nerve, which carries 
 them to the brain. This nerve is sensitive to 
 vibrations when they are not less than sixteen nor 
 more than 36,000 in a second of time. Between 
 
 15 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 these extremes sounds are produced of every grade 
 of pitcli and effect on the sense of hearing. 
 
 The value of the ear as an instrument of knowl- 
 edge can scarcely be overestimated. The objects 
 of cognition in touch, taste, and smell must be in 
 immediate contact with portions of the body. 
 Hearing, however, operates through a wide range 
 of space. It greatly enlarges our world of experi- 
 ence. It increases our joys and adds to our eflfici- 
 ency in every domain of activity. It creates the 
 human voice; it converts the vibrations of the 
 stringed instrument into music ; it fills the great 
 organ with praise to the mighty Euler of all things. 
 It breathes accents of love, and awakens tones 
 which bespeak the majesty of the human will. 
 For, be it remembered, that where there is no ear 
 there is no music, no sound, soft or loud. The 
 vibrations of the air are not hearing, they have no 
 harmony, only as the ear catches them up and car- 
 ries the impressions received to the brain, there 
 stirring the soul. 
 
 6th. Through the sense of sight, the mind has 
 its broadest field of knowledge. The eye is the 
 soul's most perfect window, as it seeks to scan 
 this outer world as a wonderful mechanism, and in 
 its interdependent movements. The scientist tells 
 us that through all interstellar space there is an 
 ether connecting these worlds together. What- 
 ever other office it may fill, it renders a most as- 
 tonishing service as a medium of light. The 
 
 16 
 
SENSUOUS KNOWLEDGE 
 
 learned world agree in this, that what we call light 
 is a result of sensations produced by certain vibra- 
 tions in this ether, coming in contact with a spe- 
 cial nerve in the eye, which communicates with the 
 brain. When this is set in motion at the rate of 
 18,000,000 of vibrations per second, impinging on 
 the nerves of temperature, we get a sensation of 
 heat. But to secure a sensation of light through 
 the optic nerve, the ether must have a vibration, 
 at the lowest, of 462,000,000,000 a second, ranging 
 up to 773,000,000,000, which is the outer limit of 
 color. Below the former and above the latter 
 darkness prevails. For each color there is a spe- 
 cial rate of vibrations, the lowest giving red, the 
 highest violet. As these streams of light enter 
 the eye, they converge to a focus on the retina, 
 affording the sensation of sight. If the eye is in 
 a healthy state an image is formed on the retina 
 sufficiently intense to make the object from which 
 the light emanates visible, provided enough light 
 has passed through the pupil for this purpose. 
 The problem is twofold, focalization and intensity. 
 Nearness of the object is an element in the prob- 
 lem only as it bears on these two conditions. 
 The telescope brings stars into view, by collecting 
 the light, which, without it, would not enter the 
 eye. It is on the same principle the microscope 
 operates. 
 
 Thus we do not need to wing our flight from 
 world to world, to peer into the chambers of this 
 
 17 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 great universe. This we could not do, should 
 we desire it ; but God opens the eyes of the soul 
 through this marvellous mechanism of vision, and 
 we stand face to face with far-off spheres. All 
 nature is aglow because the mind translates these 
 vibrations of ether into pictures which tell of 
 God's wondrous works. As there is no sound 
 without an auditory nerve, so there is no light 
 without the optic nerve, with the brain and mind. 
 The soul through this nervous mechanism lights up 
 the stars, drives darkness from the face of nature, 
 and fills the world with beauty. Without the eye 
 there are vibrations but not light. 
 
 It is apparent, without further discussion, that 
 the body is endowed with special organs, by which 
 it puts the soul in direct relation with outer reali- 
 ties, supplying conditions of knowledge and mental 
 greatness. This material frame is not to be de- 
 spised, for in association with it alone can man be 
 great and find the Infinite through His works. 
 
 18 
 
PART FIRST 
 
 PSYCHOLOGICAL 
 
CHAPTEE V 
 ANALYSIS OF MENTAL LIFE 
 
 A MENTAL faculty is a mode of energy. The 
 mind is not a collection of faculties as distinct en- 
 tities, but rather a mental unit capable of many 
 and diverse forms of action. Unlike the body, 
 which is made up of parts each having a special 
 office, the unity consisting of an aggregation of 
 these separable parts, the substance of mind is 
 simple — it is single in its entity, but multiform in 
 its powers. And it is rarely, if ever, true that one 
 form of energy exists alone ; modes mingle and 
 coalesce ; there is coaction, and the products of 
 these modes are composite. 
 
 The most general division of mind is into Intel- 
 lect, Sensibilities, and Will. The functions of these 
 powers as appearing in the products of their action 
 are respectively Knowing, Feeling, and Willing. 
 In this place we characterize them simply in a gen- 
 eral way, reserving the analytical discussion of 
 them for chapters that will follow. 
 
 The action of the intellect is fourfold. To know 
 is not always to put forth the same energy. 
 
 21 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 1st. In its simplest form, knowing is to discern 
 some object that is present within the reach or ap- 
 prehension of one or more of the senses, such as 
 touch, taste, or sight. This is direct, and the most 
 elementary of all forms of cognition. The mind is 
 also able to look within itself, and find its thoughts, 
 feelings, and volitions ; to know that it is thinking, 
 to see its thoughts ; to know that it is feeling, to 
 discern the quality of its emotions, whether pleas- 
 urable or painful ; to find its volitions and appre- 
 hend their character, the nature of the choice the 
 mind is making. 
 
 2d. The mind is able to represent to itself ob- 
 jects and events as known and discerned in the 
 past — in memory recalling that which has been 
 previously experienced, and just as it transpired ; 
 or in imagination taking up the past more or less 
 modified in the mental image formed. By virtue 
 of this power the treasures of knowledge are pre- 
 served, and acquisitions do not perish as soon as 
 gained. 
 
 3d. The mind is capable of perceiving not only 
 objects, but the relations existing between objects 
 through resemblance and difference, thus putting 
 the content of our perceptions into classes, unify- 
 ing knowledge. As the result of this, language is 
 made more comprehensive and significant, and the 
 world of thought is organized. The groundwork 
 is thus laid for reasoning, premises are supplied 
 for inferences, and knowledge becomes extended. 
 
 22 
 
ANALYSIS OP MENTAL LIFE 
 
 This is not the work of the senses ; it is more than 
 a perception of things or a recall of the past ; it is 
 the understanding of things in their dependence, 
 co-operation, and causation, the part each reality 
 plays in the world of matter or mind. As a result 
 of this society becomes a possibility, opportunities 
 are opened before us, responsibilities come into ex- 
 istence, duties press upon us, rights are created, 
 government has a field for action, rewards may be 
 given and punishments inflicted, the human race 
 is made capable of advancement so that it can ful- 
 fil a sublime destiny. 
 
 4th. There is still another faculty of cognition 
 which, in our enumeration, completes the sum of 
 intellectual powers— it is that of the reason, or in- 
 tuitions. By this faculty we do not perceive indi- 
 vidual objects through the outer or inner sense ; we 
 do not recall past cognitions ; we do not carry for- 
 ward a process of reasoning ; we do not draw con- 
 clusions, but we discover first principles, realities 
 fundamental to all perceptions and reasoning. 
 When an event occurs the mind in its very nature 
 knows there must be a cause for such event ; when 
 there are properties, it knows there must be sub- 
 stance possessing these properties ; when there are 
 thoughts, it knows there is a thinker ; if there be a 
 creation, there must be a Creator. To deny such 
 underlying principles would be an absurdity. It 
 is unthinkable that there can be a product without 
 a producing energy ; that there can be phenomena 
 
 23 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 without a force in action ; that there can be body 
 without space ; that there can be events without 
 time. These are implied truths, and they cannot 
 be conceived to be non-existent. The mind finds 
 fundamental principles as the basis of all that is 
 built or constituted. That which is dependent 
 must have support. These are not inferences of 
 thought, but an underlying necessity in being and 
 thought. 
 
 Along with knowing comes feeling — an interest, 
 more or less marked, in the object of knowledge, 
 pleasurable emotions in view of the good per- 
 ceived, painful emotions when evil or harm is ap- 
 prehended. In the entire absence of cognition, 
 emotions could not arise ; with cognition they can- 
 not be wholly prevented. They are both a prod- 
 uct of knowledge and a stimulus to the gaining of 
 knowledge. Were our cognitions absolutely color- 
 less, without interest to us, no awakening of hope 
 or fear, pleasurable reminiscences or anticipations, 
 or painful experiences — an utter indifference — the 
 intellect would slumber in non-action. 
 
 The sensibility also arouses the will to action. 
 No choice is ever made when the sensibility is ab- 
 solutely quiescent, when it is at the zero point. 
 There must be a feeling of right as well as a judg- 
 ment of right, a feeling of expediency as well as a 
 conception of expediency, in order to stir the will 
 to choose and do. With both cognition and feel- 
 ing at the threshold of the will — illumination and 
 
 34 
 
MENTAL POTENTIALITY 
 
 aroused interest — the conditions are supplied for 
 choice and execution. 
 
 By means of the intellect we know, by means of 
 the sensibility we feel, and by means of the will 
 we choose ; and in their co-operative action there 
 is the movement and experience of man's mental 
 life. 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 MENTAL POTENTIALITY 
 
 To speak of a new-born child as being able to 
 think, or even to know, is to utter an absurdity. 
 Knowledge is a product of the discriminating ac- 
 tion of intellectual faculties, and thinking is the 
 employment of these faculties on some object or 
 objects of attention. In the beginning of its life 
 the child is wholly destitute of any mental acqui- 
 sitions, and to get knowledge there must be differ- 
 entiated operations of the energies of mind. A 
 nervous impression from a physical environment, 
 through the eye or ear, the sense of taste or the 
 skin, is not knowledge and does not depend on 
 thought, but it does and must precede thought. 
 In saying this we are not to be understood as af- 
 firming the absence of mental susceptibilities. The 
 child does not begin its life on the earth as a non- 
 entity, but as an undeveloped entity. In its future 
 
 25 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 there is growth, but growth does not originate be- 
 ing, it unfolds it. 
 
 Every individual begins existence as a mental 
 potentiality possessing special and definite ele- 
 ments of capability. In potentiality are involved 
 the extent and range of the powers of manhood, 
 the relative strength of the powers, the nature and 
 quantum of intellectual ability that can be wrought 
 out, the peculiarities and traits that will make the 
 personality of the grown-up man or woman. 
 
 In this we have the manifestation of a law which 
 bears universal sway in the organic world. The 
 germ of the wheat determines the character of the 
 plant which will spring from it as to its place in 
 the class of cereals, and even its variety. This 
 principle holds throughout the entire vegetable 
 kingdom. Paul in his illustration of a great truth 
 refers to this law when he says, " God giveth to 
 every seed its own body." Through the whole an- 
 imal world there is the transmission of being on 
 the lines of ancestry, even extending to instinct 
 and traits of the inner life. The lion, the tiger, 
 and the hyena come into the world with a savage 
 nature. Not only are some animals physically 
 carnivorous and others herbivorous, but there is 
 a radical mental difference appearing at the very 
 threshold of their existence, belonging to their 
 nature from the beginning. In the origin of the 
 human being there is provided not only the struct- 
 ure of the body as to its size, the color of the eyes 
 
 26 
 
MENTAL POTENTIALITY 
 
 and hair, the features of the face and every charac- 
 teristic by which the person will be physically dis- 
 tinguished from others, but innumerable mental 
 peculiarities comprising a distinct individuality, 
 all of this preparatory to the development of the 
 child, and indeed establishing the lines on which 
 the child will develop. It is said that " poets are 
 born, not made ; " that oratory is a soul-power 
 in existence before culture is gained or rhythm 
 learned ; that the true painter before he handles a 
 brush possesses within himself a gift and spirit 
 which push him out into a world of beauty. Some 
 persons are born to be mathematicians, others lin- 
 guists, and others to be masters in the world of 
 science or of art. 
 
 Not only is it true that a human soul is human 
 as distinguished from the lower animal world, but 
 that individuals start in infancy with unlike ten- 
 dencies and unequal mental energies ; that there is 
 a mental variety from the inception of life. The 
 embryonic Webster was not the same as the em- 
 bryonic Shakespeare ; the normal development of 
 native powers carried them on to an unlike destiny. 
 Ulysses S. Grant was not born an orator, nor 
 Demosthenes to be a great soldier ; but each pos- 
 sessed diverse mental qualities of a high order. 
 
 The life each is fitted to live is settled before 
 birth, but the life that each does live is mostly a 
 matter of choice in after years. There is not ab- 
 solute sameness of powers, but much less inequal- 
 
 27 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 ity in our mental outfit than the actual career of 
 different persons would seem to indicate. All can- 
 not be great logicians, or distinguished artists, 
 profound mathematicians, or successful inventors, 
 but each is supplied with native talents up to a 
 higher plane than is now usually occupied. The 
 greatest of all industries is the making of men, to 
 strengthen, ennoble, and render mighty the race of 
 human intelligences. The problem is twofold — of 
 spirit and mode of procedure. A large percentage 
 of the people aspire to nothing higher than the low 
 plane of ordinary mental experience. To obtain the 
 means of livelihood, or, somewhat more aspiring, 
 to gain wealth, is the sole aim of their ambition. 
 To them money is more than manhood. If our 
 young people could be made to understand the 
 relative values of the various objects of pursuit 
 more would be accomplished. Blindness must 
 give way to sight. The rational mode of proced- 
 ure must depend on a knowledge of the faculties 
 of the mind and the most effective condition for 
 their employment. To bring out these facts and 
 truths is the special aim of the present treatise. 
 That which is provided for in our potentiality 
 should be reached in the experience of each indi- 
 vidual. How does mind grow, and how can it be 
 brought to realize the true and sublime purpose of 
 its creation ? 
 
 28 
 
FEOM THE POTENTIAL TO THE ACTUAL 
 
 CHAPTEE VII 
 
 PASSING FROM THE POTENTIAL TO THE 
 
 ACTUAL 
 
 The child begins life in the midst of innumer- 
 able objects of sense. Its environment is wholly 
 physical, nothing touches its being but that which 
 is material in its nature. Mentally it dwells in 
 fog-land. Light forms images on the retina ; the 
 vibrations of the air act upon the auditory nerve ; 
 the gustatory and olfactory nerves are stimulated ; 
 the hand of the mother presses upon the body; 
 hunger impels to the taking of food ; there is, it 
 may be, the pricking of a pin or some other cause 
 of pain ; the hands and feet in moving come in 
 contact with material objects ; day and night alter- 
 nate, and sounds vary in their quality and inten- 
 sity. Thus there is constant variety in the states 
 through which the child passes. These are con- 
 ditions antecedent to knowledge, but of themselves 
 they do not constitute knowledge, and the infan- 
 tile mind is not capable of drawing knowledge 
 from them. Sensations are awakened which differ 
 radically from each other, they crowd in upon the 
 spirit but do not suggest the objects or causes 
 which have produced them. The sensations are not 
 even appreciated as differing one from the other. 
 
 29 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 Gradually, however, as these sensations are re- 
 peated through the weeks and months, there is de- 
 veloped the power of discrimination. The bright 
 picture makes an appreciably different impression 
 from the hurt the foot receives ; music stirs in 
 a way unlike the hunger that craves satisfaction. 
 The fog that had enveloped the intellect thins out ; 
 differences which have been but dimly apprehended 
 become more marked until objects are distinctly 
 perceived in the action of the several senses. This 
 is the beginning of knowledge. When the mental 
 differentiation has become complete, the ability to 
 think has made its appearance. 
 
 Infancy is utter mental weakness. With eyes, at 
 the early stage, the child intellectually does not see ; 
 with ears, it does not hear ; with brains, it does 
 not know or think until power is developed through 
 contact, in innumerable ways and for a period of 
 time, with material things. Were it not for the 
 body with its various organs and its system of 
 nerves, and the outer world as a material struct- 
 ure, existing in innumerable forms and appearing 
 in phenomena in countless variety, there would be 
 no mental development, the spirit would never 
 gain the power of discrimination. But it does not 
 follow from this that the mind in learning is re- 
 stricted to objects of sense, only that sense opens 
 to us the world of knowledge which could not 
 otherwise be penetrated, and in our future study 
 it will be seen that, with this beginning, truth 
 
 30 
 
FROM THE POTENTIAL TO THE ACTUAL 
 
 may be found also far out beyond the realm of 
 sense. 
 
 The child gains some apprehension of external 
 realities before there is any conception of self. He 
 looks at his hands and feet before gaining the no- 
 tion of selfhood — before conceiving of these hands 
 and feet as belonging to himself. But the daily 
 happenings in his life — as the impinging of objects 
 against the skin, especially if sufficiently violent 
 to cause pain — contribute to the development of a 
 realization of self. In the various activities of the 
 body there is ground for such suggestion. The 
 twofoldness of bodily sensations also helps him 
 to make the discrimination between self and the 
 things that are about him. In the handling of a 
 ball or a block there is a sensation of feeling in 
 the hand ; in the squeezing of his foot by the hand 
 there is a sensation in both the hand and foot. 
 Various bodily processes are carried forward with 
 dawning intelligence until the child knows himself 
 as a living, feeling, self-acting being, and after a 
 little he gains notions of personal ownership, of 
 rights, duties, and of many other interests of his 
 individual existence. 
 
 When consciousness has been fully established 
 so that there is a sharp discrimination between 
 the me and the not-me, and the child looks upon 
 himself as a being separate from others — a person 
 in the midst of objects external to himself, the 
 stage of reliable knowledge has been gained, and 
 
 31 
 
MAK'-BUILDING 
 
 thinking has now begun. Memory does not reach 
 beyond this point, and, ordinarily but dimly re- 
 calls these early experiences. When knowledge 
 becomes organized and thinking is carried forward 
 on distinct and sharp lines, the impressions in the 
 mind are so well defined as to persist through the 
 years that follow. 
 
 CHAPTEE VIII 
 THE LIGHT OF CONSCIOUSNESS 
 
 There are times, as, for instance, in profound 
 sleep, when the mind is in a state of utter oblivi- 
 ousness, when it does not realize its own existence 
 or the existence of any physical or mental realty. 
 We speak of it as being unconscious. Conscious- 
 ness is a state of awareness, the mind apprehend- 
 ing, being alive to its own operations — of know- 
 ing, feeling, willing — a realization of that which 
 is transpiring. 
 
 Consciousness is knowledge. 1. It is a gazing 
 upon, a recognition of the states of the soul. 2. 
 It is a recognition of the ego to which these states 
 belong. 3. There is a recognition of the object 
 giving rise to such states. That is, the mind knows 
 itself as knowing, it realizes what it is that it 
 knows, and it is aware of the objects to which its 
 
 32 
 
THE LIGHT OF CONSCIOUSNESS 
 
 mental states relate — which are the occasion of 
 these states. It is conscious of sight, of itself as 
 seeing, and of the object to which sight is directed. 
 It beholds itself as stirred by emotions and dis- 
 cerns in the same act that which causes these emo- 
 tions. It discovers the purposes formed as formed 
 by self and in relation to the subject on which they 
 are based. Etymologically the term consciousness 
 comes from the compound Latin word conscientia, 
 {con — with, scientia — knowledge), meaning joint 
 knowledge, synthetic knowledge. " Knowledge of 
 one thing or object in connection or relation with 
 another." That is, it includes the ego that thinks, 
 the state of the ego as thinking, and that upon 
 which the thought is employed. 
 
 Consciousness does not originate knowledge but 
 discerns and recognizes it when originated. That 
 which we learn comes into view in and by the 
 learning of it. It is a power surely, for it is dis- 
 tinct from the energy which gives rise to the 
 knowledge. It does not create the content of the 
 mind, but sees and knows it, and therefore it must 
 be a mental force. It does not tell us how we have 
 discovered the truth or the opinions formed, but it 
 is an awareness of what the opinions are. 
 
 It must be conceded that consciousness is relia- 
 ble in certifying to the fact of opinions or views 
 held, though the reasoning in forming such opin- 
 ions or ideas may be unreliable. Consciousness 
 is not a logician, but a sharp and infallible ob- 
 
 33 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 server. It must not be made responsible for our 
 theories or systems of thought, it can only assert 
 that they exist and tell us what they are. It is an 
 unimpeachable witness as to a mental fact but says 
 nothing as to the correctness of the grounds of the 
 alleged fact. We cannot deny the certification of 
 consciousness : this is beyond dispute. When it 
 beholds joy or sorrow the emotion exists ; when it 
 affirms hope or despair as filling the soul it does 
 not and cannot make a mistake. Our reasoning 
 may be at fault but consciousness never. 
 
 But it must be remembered that we can gain no 
 knowledge whatever in the absence of conscious- 
 ness. Knowledge cannot be brought into exist- 
 ence and kept out of sight ; it cannot be elaborated 
 in unilluminated chambers of the soul ; in coming 
 to be it does and must make itself knowTi. 
 
 But while the foregoing statement is true it must 
 not be supposed that knowledge remains continu- 
 ously in consciousness. While it can never be un- 
 consciously acquired, it may afterward pass out of 
 sight. The greater part of knowledge at any mo- 
 ment of time is not directly within our view, though 
 not lost. Hamilton says, " I know a science or 
 language, not merely while I make a temporary use 
 of it, but inasmuch as I can apply it when and how 
 I will. Thus the infinitely greater part of our 
 spiritual treasures lies always beyond the sphere 
 of consciousness, hid in the obscure recesses of 
 the mind." This is sometimes designated poten- 
 
 84 
 
THE LIGHT OF CONSCIOUSNESS 
 
 tial knowledge in distinction from the actual or 
 immediate. Consciousness takes cognizance only 
 of that which is here and now present to the eye 
 of the mind. 
 
 The wisdom of this law of life by which the con- 
 scious passes into the unconscious is worthy of 
 special notice. Were the mind constantly occu- 
 pied with all it has ever seen, felt, or planned, the 
 whole past being always in view, progress would 
 soon come to an end. It cannot sharply spread its 
 gaze over a multiplicity of objects at the same time. 
 It becomes less distinct as the view widens. By 
 fixing the mind on a limited field of observation 
 the vision performs effective work, additions are 
 made to the repertory of thought, and the soul 
 becomes rich by this accumulation of treasures. 
 
 Consciousness exists in varying degrees of clear- 
 ness. This depends on the vigor and intensity of 
 action of the mental life. When the mind is slug- 
 gish and weak in its movements, and inapprecia- 
 tive in its spirit, the work is sure to be but poorly 
 done. The knowledge gained is not sharply de- 
 fined, and consequently the consciousness of the 
 same is correspondingly dull. Along with a sleepy 
 intellect there will be sure to go a consciousness 
 that is dim. 
 
 As consciousness must be developed, the child 
 begins its life without its illumination because of 
 the absence of ability to formulate knowledge. As 
 it gains the ability to differentiate and classify, and 
 
 35 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 hence to recognize thinking and other mental ex- 
 periences, these operations stand out with sufficient 
 clearness to engage the attention. The intellect 
 cannot see unless there is something to be seen. 
 When the child has a content of knowledge in his 
 experiences he becomes aware of it. That which 
 is most distinctly wrought in the soul is most 
 vividly there. Hence consciousness is a gauge of 
 the activities of our mental life. 
 
 CHAPTEE IX 
 THE PHILOSOPHY OF ATTENTION 
 
 The mind does not passively gain knowledge. 
 It is not like the wax receiving impressions from 
 the seal. It is not a reservoir into which knowl- 
 edge flows. It is not a receiver, but a producer. 
 It creates knowledge, which is an apprehension 
 and interpretation of realities on which the mind 
 employs its powers. 
 
 The dawning of intelligence is seen in and takes 
 place through an awakened attention. Attention 
 is involved in consciousness. To have knowledge 
 and perceive what that knowledge is, is possible 
 only when the gaze is turned on some object. To 
 be awake, therefore, to realize our surroundings, to 
 pass through any form of experience is to dwell in 
 
 36 
 
PHILOSOPHY OP ATTENTION 
 
 an observant state, a state of attention. This is a 
 statement of a fundamental law of intelligence. 
 We call it primary attention because it is primary 
 and universal in mental action — there could be no 
 consciousness without it. It is thus mind touches 
 nature and comes into relation with the great uni- 
 verse of possible knowledge. This may bo desig- 
 nated involuntary attention because objects are not 
 selected and chosen by the will, but, unbidden, 
 obtrude themselves on our apprehension. It is a 
 mental act that is necessarily present in every stage 
 and form of cognition. 
 
 The mind does much more than apprehend, it 
 discriminates and classifies. This cannot be done 
 without attention, perceiving qualities, and through 
 resemblances and differences constructing complex 
 units out of the multiplicity of particulars. In 
 this there is a selective act, the field is narrowed, 
 the powers of cognition are restricted by being em- 
 ployed on the elements by which classification is 
 effected. And in proportion to the concentration 
 of mental energies, there is clearness of under- 
 standing and accumulation of power. This is 
 more than contraction, a withdrawal of attention 
 from the general field of knowledge ; such with- 
 drawal takes place in inattention ; it is rather a 
 withdrawal from the many to concentrate on the 
 few. It is the bringing of the energies of the mind 
 to bear on a restricted field to the exclusion of the 
 irrelevant. Nothing is more feeble than abstrac- 
 
 37 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 tion without concentration — a letting go of all ob- 
 jects of thought. That which is needed is intense 
 intellectual gaze secured by the focusing of thought. 
 This can be done only by the action of the will in 
 what we call voluntary attention. 
 
 We speak of attention as the keeping of the 
 mind from wandering, holding it steadily to the 
 subject under consideration. But we do not mean 
 by this a fixed, immobile gaze ; that might exist 
 with but little mental activity. We should not sit 
 down by a theme, but work on it, keeping, how- 
 ever, all that is foreign out of sight. Every sub- 
 ject is complex, a compound with many relations. 
 To give rational attention is to study it in its ful- 
 ness ; analyzing it ; turning it over on every side ; 
 making it, for the time being, the sole object of 
 interest ; excluding everything that would inter- 
 rupt or weaken these efforts. Attention, therefore, 
 is mental application to a unit of thought nar- 
 rower or broader according to the subject in hand. 
 For this there is needed the ability to continue 
 such work uninterruptedly till fully accomplished. 
 There must be action, unity of action, force of 
 action. 
 
 This application of energy underlies all vigorous 
 and successful movements of the life. We have 
 seen that knowledge depends upon it — is gained 
 by means of it, and is made clear and comprehen- 
 sive. Interest is also thus awakened. The more 
 complete the view and the more vital the relations 
 
 38 
 
TEAmiNG OF ATTENTION 
 
 unfolded, the more numerous are the points at 
 which it touches our emotional life. We prize in 
 proportion to perceived values, and we feel only as 
 we perceive. The world of feeling is no greater or 
 wider than the field of knowledge. Through all of 
 this the will is reached, an inspiration to do takes 
 hold upon us, and the range of our power of action 
 is increased. The entire being is stirred and made 
 more effective. Attention illuminates the mind ; the 
 clearer vision stirs the emotions ; and the ardor of 
 soul arouses the will, and thus the whole life is 
 wrought up to mightier deeds. 
 
 CHAPTER X 
 THE TRAINING OF ATTENTION 
 
 Like every other mental force the attention can 
 be trained by giving it vigorous and continuous 
 action. Living in the midst of such a multiplicity 
 of objects which constantly obtrude themselves on 
 our notice, we are liable to dissipate all specific 
 energy. When some particular subject calls for 
 consideration there may be numberless occasions 
 for diversion, so that the continuity of thinking is 
 not infrequently interrupted, defeating, it may be, 
 the purpose we have in view. 
 
 Training should begin in the early years of child- 
 hood. The novelty of the world into which the 
 
 39 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 child has come contributes to a vivid daily experi- 
 ence, but it is largely like a rapidly shifting 
 panorama. The attention is quickly caught, but 
 changes to some new scene. Nothing is more dif- 
 ficult than for the child to resist the inclination to 
 let go of the present for that which follows it ; and 
 this is likely to keep him racing from morning to 
 night along the pathway of the hours. There is 
 needed a discipline of restraint, to do that which 
 should be done — to stop to do it — notwithstanding 
 the bright picture just in the future. The boy that 
 excuses himself on the ground that he forgot the 
 errand — not wilfulness but forgetfulness — displays 
 the need of training. 
 
 The school-days of youth are usually less produc- 
 tive of good than they should be, because of un- 
 wise methods. For either the book or the teacher 
 to do the whole work is robbing the child of power. 
 It is worth immensely more for the boy to learn 
 how to study one thing thoroughly, than to read a 
 dozen things in a book. If to have the meaning 
 of the text is all that is necessary, the translation 
 by a friend or by a " pony " will answer the whole 
 purpose. He who searches in order to find gets a 
 hundred-fold more into the fibres of his mental life 
 than the boy who accepts what is prepared for him 
 either by his teacher or author, because he has 
 evolved it by looking at it more steadily, and into 
 it more deeply. He gains the habit and power of 
 attention. 
 
 40 
 
TKAINING OF ATTENTION 
 
 There is in our colleges a fault, that is almost 
 universal, of sacrificing depth for superficial area — 
 we do not say the sacrificing depth for breadth, for 
 real breadth in scholarship is depth. Ground is 
 too often travelled over in a hurried manner ; the 
 task is not learned, but glanced over, the surface 
 is skimmed. There are two classes of subjects 
 studied in our schools ; one of these is pursued for 
 the knowledge to be gained, the other for the men- 
 tal discipline to be acquired. The benefit of the 
 latter occurs not in the having but in the getting. 
 The student is compelled to study so carefully, to 
 dig down so deeply, to bend his energies to the 
 work so continuously that there is a growth of 
 power, he is gaining the ability to be a master in 
 the great world of thought. But even in those 
 branches which are specially informational, if pur- 
 sued in a scholarly way there is ordinarily not less 
 good to be derived in the training of the intellect 
 than from the knowledge acquired. 
 
 The student's ideal is largely a false one. Edu- 
 cation, as he conceives it, is knowledge. To him, 
 in this is found a personal benefit, and hence in 
 studying he thinks only of the knowledge to be 
 gained. When he is examined it is to determine 
 how much he knows. Theoretically discipline is 
 taken into account, but practically it is lost sight 
 of. It is not an end sought in every lesson. The 
 student does not say to himself, " In what way 
 can I get most discipline out of this lesson? I 
 
 41 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 will bend my mind to this work so as to sharpen 
 my mental vision, intensify my mental gaze, and 
 add to the power of close application." But he 
 asks, " Do I understand this lesson ? Can I recite 
 this lesson ? " The Freshman who does not learn 
 with much greater facility the latter half of the 
 year than the former half, is either very obtuse or 
 has been at work in an unphilosophical way. The 
 Senior should surpass the Freshman or Sopho- 
 more, not only in scholarship, but greatly in the 
 power of gaining scholarship. 
 
 Much more than holding an examination on the 
 text, there should be a testing of the power to 
 gain knowledge and to comprehend the problems 
 studied. The college curriculum does not provide 
 for this, and the teacher in charge of a depart- 
 ment gives ordinarily but little attention to it. 
 This whole subject should have direct and efficient 
 supervision. Exercises can be introduced in every 
 part of the course for pure disciplinary effect. 
 Nothing was more valuable in the public school 
 years ago than the work in mental arithmetic. The 
 problems, being made gradually more complex, 
 held in the mind ; and in the absence of all me- 
 chanical helps, solved by the child, created the 
 need of increasing grasp of attention ; and thus by 
 practice, facility was gained for deeper and harder 
 work, so that in a single term of a few months, a 
 marked improvement would be observed in the 
 handling of difficult problems. In recent years 
 
 42 
 
TEAINING OF ATTENTION 
 
 the trend has been toward formulation of processes 
 and away from intuitive operations. Our higher 
 schools of learning should give us better thinkers 
 by making a specialty of mental training, not 
 stopping with the fact of the lesson being learned 
 so as to be creditably well recited. Let the mind 
 of the pupil be studied as well as the quality of the 
 recitation determined. What has been learned 
 should become known by the teacher ; but how the 
 student proceeds in gaining knowledge should 
 also be investigated, and guidance afforded. 
 
 To secure a concentration of attention, awaken, 
 if possible, an interest in the subject. This the 
 wise teacher always seeks to accomplish. To call 
 upon the pupil to give attention will usually create 
 a temporary effect, but ordinarily it will only be 
 temporary. The roots of attention are not reached. 
 But the mind takes hold of and clings to that in 
 which it feels a decided interest. This statement 
 is of value both to the teacher and pupil. It con- 
 tains a principle of universal application. 
 
 The will has in this a specific office to perform. 
 It can and should rule the intellect. It is able to 
 call in wandering thoughts and centre them on 
 any special subject. It is ordained to hold the 
 helm, and it should be trained to hold it firmly. 
 Nothing more completely dissipates power than 
 unchecked drifting of thought. While a feeling of 
 interest draws the attention, the will should force 
 it, when the occasion for its exercise arises. And 
 
 43 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 the more frequently and imperiously the will as- 
 serts its authority, and the more constant the 
 effort to secure regularity of attention the more 
 intense and effective will be the concentration of 
 thought. 
 
 And greatness, masterful sweep of power, is in 
 proportion to the massing of mental energies, and 
 the steady, determined assault on fortifications we 
 seek to capture. 
 
 CHAPTEE XI 
 
 FIRST FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 In Chapter V. it was stated that there are four 
 distinct faculties of knowing, and therefore four 
 forms or classes of knowledge. Writers designate 
 the kind of knowledge we shall consider in this 
 chapter as Presentative. It is not inferential 
 knowledge ; it is not representative ; it is not im- 
 plied, but it is perceptive. In the order of time 
 the Presentative is the first that is gained by the 
 mind. It is the simplest in its nature and requires 
 the least mental effort. The objects to which this 
 knowledge relates obtrude themselves on our at- 
 tention, and when the mind is in a normal, active 
 state they come into the field of view. This is 
 knowledge that is obtained when the object is 
 present and directly discerned. 
 
 44 
 
PIEST FOEMS OP KNOWLEDGE 
 
 Such knowledge is gained through the senses. 
 It has been stated that there are five special 
 senses — of touch, taste, smell, hearing, and sight, 
 called special because each has a special organism, 
 and a special office or mode of action peculiar to 
 itself. In addition to these there is a muscular 
 sense, reporting the condition of the muscles in 
 their action, weariness, etc., their more or less ful- 
 ness or depletion of energy ; and an organic sense 
 by which we become aware of the state of our 
 organic life. 
 
 In order that through any of these channels 
 knowledge may be gained of the material world 
 sensations are produced. A sensation is a feeling 
 awakened through stimulation of some sensory 
 nerve, putting the mind cognitively in connection 
 with the object then present. That sensations 
 may arise there must be a material object, some 
 nerve or nerves brought by it into a state of ex- 
 citation, this excitation then transmitted to the 
 brain, and the mind thereby consciously aroused. 
 Thus on the physical side there must be nerves 
 and brain acted upon by some material object. 
 But with nothing more than this, sensations are 
 not possible ; that nerve excitation may pass into 
 sensation there must be mind in a conscious state 
 affected by the nervous stimulation. Without a 
 mental recognition of nerve-stimulation there is 
 no sensation. Sensation is a psychical action. It 
 belongs to the mind, not to the nerves, though 
 
 45 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 the nervous system is necessary for the mental im- 
 pression ; and in the nerves the excitation of the 
 life must take its rise. 
 
 In sensation, however, there is more or less dis- 
 tinct recognition of the nerve - endings through 
 which the impression is received. As, for instance, 
 in rubbing the finger-tips over a rough surface the 
 mind becomes aware of the character of such sur- 
 face by virtue of the impression made on the 
 nerves of the fingers, and the excitation of these 
 nerve - endings is revealed in the mental state 
 thereby produced. In other words, the mind 
 becomes aware of these two things, the disturb- 
 ance of the local nerves and the character of the 
 object ajffecting this disturbance. This really is 
 perception, the reading or interpretation of tJie 
 sensation. The sensation was mental, directing 
 the mind to both of these objects to be perceived 
 — the nerve and the object which acted upon the 
 nerve. 
 
 In some sensations the physiological factor or 
 medium is very prominent, as in touch, taste, and 
 smell. In other sensations, as in sight, the phy- 
 siological drops wholly out of view. There is no 
 feeling in the eye, or referred to the eye, by an 
 image forming on a healthy retina. In the proc- 
 ess of seeing we are wholly unconscious of the 
 existence of a retina. The retina was not discov- 
 ered by our using the eye, but by dissection of the 
 eye of a dead animal. In sight the retina responds 
 
 46 
 
FIEST POEMS OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 to the light without our being aware of any move- 
 ment taking place. There is a sensation, or condi- 
 tion for perception, effected without any observed 
 or felt physiological change. It should be borne 
 in mind that the sense in which we use the word 
 sensation is a mental feeling, or an awakened 
 mental state produced by some stimulation of the 
 nervous system by a physical object. The sen- 
 sation is mental, the origin or exciting cause is 
 physical. 
 
 Sensations differ widely in their nature, depend- 
 ing on the character of the organs through which 
 they arise. We are able to discern as many classes 
 of qualities existing in nature as there are kinds 
 of sense-organs. We do not know whether the 
 scope of our possible knowledge of the material 
 world is limited by our sense-organs or that these 
 organs report fully to us the constitution of nature. 
 It may be that there are material qualities all 
 about us unknown because we have no sense or- 
 gans fitted to receive impressions from them. We 
 do know that the sense-organs do not report all 
 the activities of nature. The ear gathers no ele- 
 ments of sound when the nimiber of vibrations of 
 the air is below 16 or above 36,000 per second. 
 The ether may at different times be in vibration all 
 the way from a very slow to a very rapid rate, but 
 as has before been said, we get no sensation of 
 light below 462,000,000,000 or above 733,000,000,- 
 000 of vibrations per second. Outside of this range 
 
 47 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 it is the deepest midnight. The force of gravitation 
 is transmitted from one world to another, probably, 
 through interstellar ether, but we have no nerves 
 that detect its constant flow. 
 
 The senses we possess are the windows through 
 which the mind looks out on the material world. 
 Nature presents herself to us as objects of cogni- 
 tion through this medium. How nerve-stimula- 
 tion, when it reaches the cells of the brain, can be 
 transferred to the mind no one is able to explain. 
 It is a mystery, but no more a mystery than in- 
 numerable other facts clearly established. We 
 know positively that perception of outward objects 
 begins with the agitation of nerve-endings in touch, 
 hearing, sight, etc., and ends with the discerning 
 of the object that supplied the stimulus. The 
 starting-point of the process we find, the track is 
 determined and the outcome is known. Of all 
 this we have as much certainty as though the mys- 
 tery of the energy of transference was cleared away. 
 Things and the knowledge of things belong to two 
 different spheres. One is physical, the other mental. 
 The latter is the reading or interpretation of the 
 other. A sensation — painful or pleasurable — is 
 not a thing, but a means or condition of knowing 
 it, and perception is the finding and localizing of 
 the object causing the sensation. 
 
 The first form of knowledge, then, is that which 
 is gained through the senses. It is direct, imme- 
 diate, simple so far as the action of the mind is 
 
 48 
 
PIEST FOKMS OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 concerned, and of particular objects. We desig- 
 nate it presentative knowledge because the object 
 perceived is present to sense. 
 
 CHAPTEE XII 
 
 FIRST FORMS OF KNOWI^BBQ-E.— {Continued) 
 
 In using the word perception at this stage of 
 our discussion we must restrict its meaning to 
 knowledge that is characteristically presentative, 
 such knowledge as is the natural and direct result 
 of sensations. This is the entire significance of 
 the act of perception with the little child ; in 
 maturer life the content of perception comes to be 
 much broader and more complex. In these later 
 years, in presentation there is mingled a large ele- 
 ment of representation and reasoning, at least to 
 the extent of classification. But these factors for 
 the present will be ignored. 
 
 It is seldom that perception — the immediate 
 knowledge of things through the senses — is based 
 on a single class of sensations. In perceiving an 
 orange, for illustration, distinguishing it from 
 other objects, with which it might be confounded, 
 the eye is used, through which we have a sensa- 
 tion of color and shape ; there is also a sensation 
 of form by handling the fruit. There is a sensa- 
 
 49 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 tion of the character of the surface by means of 
 touch and pressure of the hand. The sense of 
 smell is employed, and to complete our investiga- 
 tion we resort to taste. But from all of these sen- 
 sations we perceive the object to be an orange. Is 
 the flower at which you look an actual or paper 
 rose ? The eye alone may not be able to settle the 
 question; you appeal also to the sensation of 
 touch and smell. Is the figure that rises before 
 you a person, or are you the victim of hallucina- 
 tion ? To sight it seems to be a person, but you 
 stretch forth your hand to touch it and find it 
 wholly intangible. 
 
 The sensibilities and will both make contribu- 
 tions to the act of perception, to the extent of 
 interest, at least on the part of the sensibilities, 
 while the will directs and holds the attention, so 
 that they enliven and give color to the perception. 
 It is evident that crowding in on us from every 
 side there are manifestations of the outer world 
 appearing in our intellectual life, through the sen- 
 sations awakened and which mingle in varying 
 proportions. 
 
 Sensations depend upon the stimulus applied, 
 but they are not in the precise ratio of the stimu- 
 lus. Weber's law, which seems to be reliable, 
 teaches that to secure an arithmetical variation of 
 the sensations, the stimulus must vary geometri- 
 cally. To obtain sensations represented by one, 
 two, three, four, the stimulus must be one, four, 
 
 50 
 
FIEST FOEMS OP KNOWLEDGE 
 
 nine, sixteen. That is, in order that the sen- 
 sation may be doubled in its intensity or degree, 
 the stimulus must be quadrupled. To treble the 
 sensation the stimulus must be increased ninefold. 
 To double the sensation of sight the amount of 
 light the object radiates or reflects must be aug- 
 mented fourfold. The shriek of an engine rasps 
 the auditory nerve only in the ratio of the square 
 root of the sound emitted. 
 
 Sensations are relative also, they do not stand 
 for fixed quantities. When the hand is thrust into 
 water at 110 degrees, there is a sensation of heat, 
 but if transferred from water at 150 degree to water 
 at 110 degrees, there is a sensation of cold. One 
 reason that special sounds can usually be heard 
 more distinctly in the dead of night than in the day- 
 time, is that in the general quiet of the night there 
 are no mixed or counter waves to be overcome. 
 
 All sensations are phenomena, they are not the 
 transference of qualities to the nerves through 
 which sensations are perceived. Sweetness is not 
 in the sugar, but it is a sensation developed locally 
 by the action of sugar on the gustatory nerves of 
 the mouth. These nerves cannot produce this 
 sensation of sweetness alone, nor can the sensation 
 be in the sugar, but as the result of the contact of 
 the sugar with the nerves, the sensation comes 
 into existence. Sweetness is not put into the 
 mouth, but is developed in the mouth. There is 
 no color in the absence of light. In a rayless 
 
 51 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 night the barn that was painted red is not red* 
 The paint is capable of decomposing the light 
 that falls on it, absorbing all except the red rays. 
 The music is not in the violin, only waves or vi- 
 brations of air can be created, which vibrations 
 produce certain sensations of musical sounds — 
 in pitch and quality — by action on the auditory 
 nerve. 
 
 Are our senses always reliable, or do they some- 
 times deceive us ? Take phenomena like the fol- 
 lowing. A large man looks like a small boy, until 
 you come to realize that instead of being twenty 
 rods away he is half a mile from you. An object 
 of but a few inches in front of the eye, but sup- 
 posed to be several feet away, seems to be many 
 times larger than it really is. Does the sense of 
 sight in these cases make a false report? The 
 apparent magnitude of an object depends upon 
 the visual angle — the angle formed by lines drawn 
 from the extreme points of the object to the centre 
 of the eye. The greater the distance of the 
 object the smaller the angle. The effect on the 
 angle of vision by increasing the distance without 
 change of size of the object, is the same as would 
 be produced by reducing the size without change 
 of distance. In this there is no deceit. Sense is 
 accurate and does all it is planned to do. When 
 the actual distance is understood and taken into 
 account, with the additional sense determination 
 of diminution of light because of distance, the 
 
 62 
 
FIEST POEMS OP KNOWLEDGE 
 
 mind forms a correct judgment as to real magni- 
 tude. Perception is not sensation simply, but 
 sensation on which judgment has been exercised. 
 It is an act broadly intellectual. 
 
 Take another illustration. A straight stick par- 
 tially and obliquely immersed in water, appears to 
 be bent at the surface of the water. We may 
 know positively that the stick is straight, but by 
 no means can we make it look straight. Does not 
 sense in such a case as this deceive us ? It ought 
 not to do so, if we understand certain laws of 
 nature. When light passes obliquely from one 
 medium into another of different density, it is 
 always refracted from a straight line. Apparent 
 position must depend on the direction from which 
 the light enters the eye. That direction being 
 changed at the surface of the water, the stick must 
 necessarily appear bent. The eye is not at fault, 
 the light has changed its course. On the same 
 principle the disk of the sun is seen in the morn- 
 ing, a little time before it rises or is actually above 
 the horizon, and a brief period at night, after it 
 sinks below the horizon. The rays of the sun in 
 coming into the atmosphere are bent downward. 
 In the mirage a vessel appears inverted in the sky 
 because of unequal degrees of refraction of light. 
 Now as to position or direction of objects, the eye 
 cannot trace the light beyond the organ through 
 which sensations originate. It is not its function 
 to go out into space and track the curving of the 
 
 53 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 light in changing the apparent position of the sun 
 or moon or stars ; to find the crossing of the rays 
 through unequal refraction, so as to form the 
 mirage ; to extend its work to the surface of the 
 water, to note the deviation from a straight line of 
 the rays which find their way up into the air. 
 
 The senses do their own work accurately and 
 well. They do not go out of their own spheres. 
 In knowledge, however, there are elements which 
 sense does not supply. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIII 
 INTELLECTUAL TRAINING OF THE CHILD 
 
 The subject to be presented in this chapter is of 
 the greatest practical importance. The child starts 
 in life with an equipment of sense-organs. The 
 first knowledge gained is perceptional. Other 
 forms gradually make their way into the intellect- 
 ual life, but in childhood sense-knowledge pre- 
 dominates, and through all our years it must be 
 fundamental. 
 
 The natural order in mental training — there 
 must be a natural order — should be observed. 
 Before school-days arrive the child is in his native 
 element. He is attracted by the various objects 
 of the physical world ; through sight and hearing, 
 
 54 
 
TKAINING OF THE CHILD 
 
 taste, smell, and touch lie comes to know and dis- 
 criminate material things. Sensations crowd in 
 upon his experience, and the range of his intelli- 
 gence is constantly enlarging. There is no period 
 in which more rapid progress is made. This ought 
 not to stop when the child enters school ; but until 
 recent years the early school period was nearly a 
 blank. It was a violent excision from the natural 
 stock on which life had been grafted. 
 
 The kindergarten methods which are now being 
 employed are eminently philosophical. In this 
 the occupation of the child is in the world of the 
 concrete — of actual material things. The play 
 element is not aimless, but is turned toward ma- 
 terial forms, in connection with which there is a 
 disciplining of the powers of discrimination. The 
 interest developed quickens the mental pulse, and 
 in the aroused spirit of observation the immediate 
 world in which the child is living comes to have a 
 deeper significance. At first there is little the 
 child can understand but things ; it is too early 
 for wide processes of reasoning, for handling ab- 
 stract principles. Nothing is better for the child, 
 from three to six or seven years of age, than the 
 training and guidance in the kindergarten. It is 
 living close to the world of sense. 
 
 When the child passes from the kindergarten to 
 the general school-room, what then? Shall he 
 turn his back on nature ? Nothing could be more 
 unwise. He has already gained something of an 
 
 55 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 equipment in and for the world of sense, and there 
 is a wide field not as yet explored on which this 
 equipment can be employed. We say, study 
 things. There is more for the child in the rocks, 
 the flowers, the trees, the lakes and rivers, the hills 
 and the vales, the animal and vegetable kingdoms, 
 in the growing crop, the mature seed, the works of 
 art as seen by the eye and handled by the hands, 
 than in the most perfect book man has ever writ- 
 ten. In school-days children should be led up to 
 nature to listen to her voice and catch her smile — = 
 not away from her as though the purpose of edu- 
 cation was to sever the life from its natural con- 
 nections, to divorce what God has sought to join 
 in an eternal union. 
 
 There are two reasons for the theory we are urg- 
 ing. One is that the child is better prepared to 
 study the world of things than any other of the 
 classes of subjects that can be brought to his at- 
 tention. It, indeed, is all he can do well. The 
 other is that sensuous knowledge must underlie 
 that which is abstract as it shall come into the 
 life in subsequent years. Every child should be 
 trained to be a careful observer. Observation is 
 more than the keeping of the eyes open, a general 
 recognition of one's physical environment. It is 
 a mental state, a spirit of inquiry, analytic in mak- 
 ing discriminations. It is not merely looking at 
 things, but into things. The child should be 
 trained to be a close inspectoi', gaining the habit 
 
 56 
 
TEAINING OF THE CHILD 
 
 of rational scrutiny ; his eyes should go down into 
 the very depths of his soul. The telescope does 
 not find the star, it is the man behind the tele- 
 scope. 
 
 Educationally much of the work of childhood 
 consists in learning the names of things and the 
 meaning of the words which express acts or phe- 
 nomena. The drill of the school-room, with nat- 
 ure carefully shut out from view, gives a very im- 
 perfect impression of the content of the words 
 which are intended to express natural objects. 
 The way to study language is to gain a familiarity 
 with that of which it is an expression. If lan- 
 guage-study should begin in childhood, as it cer- 
 tainly should, the words should not be a dim 
 shadow of the real. This is necessary, not only 
 to meet the demands of scholarship, but of gene- 
 ral intelligence as well. 
 
 To the parent we would say, help the child to 
 get into rational touch with nature in all the sports 
 and amusements of the first years of its conscious 
 being. We charge the teacher to take this great 
 universe into his service in starting the education 
 of the boy and girl. Get out of the powers of per- 
 ception the work they are fitted to do. See to it 
 that a foundation is laid for a wide sphere of in- 
 vestigation and thought, in attentive and discrimi- 
 nating study of the objects for which the senses 
 are provided! To the student seeking scholarship 
 we bring this exhortation : Develop the power 
 
 57 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 and gain the habit of a close and interested ob- 
 server. Train the mind constantly, and with deep- 
 est interest, to search for truth through the senses 
 with which you are fortunately endowed. 
 
 CHAPTEE XIV 
 
 MENTAL GROWTH 
 
 Mental growth comprises enlargement of life as 
 to powers, and knowledge gained by employment 
 of powers. Knowledge acquired contributes to 
 the energy of our cognitive faculties, and the 
 greater the energy of these faculties the more rap- 
 idly and thoroughly will knowledge be gained. 
 In mature years the body consumes food to repair 
 waste ; in childhood and youth the purpose is to 
 promote growth as well as to repair the daily waste. 
 Unlike the physical, the sole office of mental food 
 is enlargement of mental life. The food which 
 the plant takes from the air and soil is wrought 
 into its structure and hence it grows ; the extent 
 of growth being in proportion to the amount of 
 material thus utilizedo If the same principle holds 
 in the mental world, the acquisition of knowledge 
 through all the years of the past should appear — 
 the whole of it — in the intelligence and capability 
 of to-day, 
 
 58 
 
MENTAL GEOWTH 
 
 Mental effort is of value even should we fail to 
 solve the problem on which we are employed. It 
 is of more value, however, if in the effort the truth 
 or solution we seek be reached. The speculations 
 of the philosophers of the Middle Ages are of little 
 worth as systems of thought, but the intellectual 
 struggles for which they stood made some mighty 
 men. Larger results followed when rational lines 
 of study were pursued which led directly to the 
 temple of truth. Civilization means most when 
 knowledge is most fully developed in connection 
 with the rational use of mental powers. Truth is 
 needed as the furnishing of the intellectual life. 
 We work with it and on it to gain more truth. 
 Progress in scholarship depends on the scholar- 
 ship already gained. Each truth captured lifts up 
 to a higher level, enlarging the field of view. The 
 gaining of knowledge because of the worth of 
 knowledge, and the stimulation and more success- 
 ful action of the powers, is progress. 
 
 If the knowledge gained to-day should fade away 
 to-morrow, mental life would be at a standstill. 
 The only condition of substantial improvement is 
 the persistence of knowledge. Because of this we 
 have scholarship, professional skill, intelligence 
 from the lowest to the highest grade. Thus man- 
 hood means more than childhood, and life has a 
 glorious mission. 
 
 That the mind holds on to its possessions every- 
 body knows ; how, is an inscrutable mystery. To 
 
 59 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 speak of knowledge as being stored away in the 
 mind — in the mind but distinct from the mind — as 
 wheat is stored in a bin, or letters deposited in a 
 pigeon-hole, is to use a misleading figure of speech. 
 Knowledge is not stored, it is incorporated. It 
 enters into the flow of Ufe, modifying mental ac- 
 tion. 
 
 It is not unreasonable to hold, as the psycholo- 
 gists of to-day universally maintain, that the per- 
 sistence of knowledge and of all mental impres- 
 sions is due to a modification of brain-cells effected 
 by the action of the mind in the gaining of knowl- 
 edge and the creation of such impressions. As 
 the mind depends on the brain for all its actiyity, 
 this cannot be eliminated from the problem of 
 thought. With a healthy brain there is normal 
 mental action ; with a diseased brain there is 
 mental disorder. Insanity is a brain trouble, it 
 can be cured only by a proper treatment of the 
 nervous system. Softening of the brain is a break- 
 ing down of brain-cells, producing idiocy. All 
 nervous disorders affect the mind. The dyspeptic 
 is irritable despite efforts to restrain his temper. 
 In nervous prostration the whole mental life is 
 swayed by irritable nerves. Drafts on the brain 
 are drafts on the mind as well. The orator under 
 nervous excitement finds the mind stimulated and 
 sharpened ; when his effort is passed and the ner- 
 vous system feels exhaustion, the mind for a time 
 is almost incapable of effort. The mind of the 
 
 60 
 
MENTAL GROWTH 
 
 minister on Monday is often sluggish as a reaction 
 from ttie nervous strain of the Sabbath. A boy 
 with an irascible spirit, by repressing his tendency 
 to nervous irritation, can gain a placid temper ; but 
 by giving unrestrained freedom to nervous excite- 
 ment the habit of violent outbursts of passion be- 
 comes his master as the years go by. 
 
 Perception, which is psychical, may be modified 
 by the training of the nerves. The Indian gains 
 the ability, by frequently putting his ear to the 
 ground, to hear the approaching footsteps of the 
 enemy while still at a great distance. The blind 
 man comes to have a sharper hearing and more 
 sensitive touch because in the absence of sight he 
 depends on these senses. Cases have existed in 
 which the deaf have shown great appreciation of 
 music through the sense of touch effected by plac- 
 ing the hands on the wooden furnishings of the 
 room. The tactile nerves had taken the place of 
 the auditory nerves. 
 
 Everything goes to show that the nervous sys- 
 tem, with the brain as its sensory centre, has a 
 most important part to perform in the gaining and 
 utilization of mental experience. We see, there- 
 fore, that mental growth consists of an increase of 
 knowledge, an enlargement and strengthening of 
 mental faculties, and a modified and developing 
 condition of the brain and nervous system for the 
 more efficient action of the energies of the mind. 
 
 61 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 SECOND FOEMS OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 (memory) 
 
 Memoey, to whicli we referred in the preceding 
 chapter, is a faculty by which the past is brought 
 back into consciousness. It consists of three stages 
 or essential elements, Retention^ Beprodiiction^ and 
 Becognition. We use the word retention to express 
 the fact that that which is remembered has in 
 some way remained in our mental life. Then there 
 is reproduction, that which had been produced in 
 perception but had passed out of consciousness, is 
 reproduced, is brought back into consciousness. 
 And that the act of memory be complete, that 
 which is recalled or reproduced must be identified 
 or recognized as standing for the original produc- 
 tion as to fact, time, and place. 
 
 This form of mental action is properly desig- 
 nated representative in distinction from the pre- 
 sentative which we considered under the head of 
 "first forms of knowledge." In the exercise of the 
 representative faculty the subject to which the 
 knowledge relates is not present either in time or 
 place, it is not directly received through any of 
 the senses. In representation, the knowledge is 
 
 62 
 
SECOND FOEMS OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 not then created — not then primarily produced, but 
 it is reproduced. In the experiences through 
 which we daily pass our gaze is constantly shift- 
 ing. That which is the object of attention one 
 moment gives way to something else in the mo- 
 ment that follows. We walk in new fields and 
 encounter new scenes, becoming oblivious to the 
 days and years through which we have come. 
 
 Were all the past constantly retained in con- 
 sciousness there would be mental confusion which 
 would arrest progress. But if all the past of which 
 we have become unconscious had been blotted out 
 — escaped beyond recall — we would never rise 
 above the feebleness of early childhood. And as 
 we retain our hold on our past mental acquisitions, 
 however broad the range of truth we have trav- 
 ersed, these being somehow stored in or attached 
 to the mind so as to be called into use at will and 
 employed as our needs require, we may and should 
 become rich in mental treasures. 
 
 How does memory unfold ? It will not be prof- 
 itable in this connection to deal with the physio- 
 logical or scientific speculations in which writers 
 have indulged. Our statements will be valid 
 whatever fundamental theories are adopted. Upon 
 this, however, we must insist that the furnishings 
 of the mind called education, whether existing as 
 cognitions, feelings, or volitions, are not posses- 
 sions simply held by the mind and which could 
 be excluded from the mind without affecting its 
 
 63 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 integrity or capability. They are not a deposit in 
 mind cavities but a constituent of mind texture. 
 
 It is evident there can be no action of memory 
 when there has been no action of mind in first 
 gaining knowledge. Very largely is it true that 
 what is charged against the memory should rather 
 be charged against the mind in its incomplete 
 work in acquiring perceptional knowledge. We 
 do not remember because we have not learned. 
 What has not been in consciousness could not be 
 brought into consciousness by an act of memory. 
 We cannot recall unless we have had something to 
 be recalled. The student cannot recite his lesson 
 when he has not learned it. The memory does not 
 take in the events of early childhood because such 
 events were not fully understood; they did not 
 completely become objects of knowledge. A thing 
 is known not simply by impressing some sense, but 
 by being discriminately perceived and put into the 
 class of realities where it belongs. This does not 
 occur to any large extent until the child is five or 
 six years old. There is in the mind of the infant 
 no class knowledge to which sensations can be re- 
 ferred. When the child has progressed so far as 
 to have a body of discriminated perceptions — 
 at least a groundwork of classification — objects or 
 events apprehended have a meaning because of re- 
 semblance with that which had previously been 
 distinguished. Gradually what was dim becomes 
 clear, a stage is reached in which knowledge is 
 
 64 
 
SECOND FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 rounded out, and which therefore can be retained 
 in memory. That which was clear in knowledge is 
 clear in memory. 
 
 It is important to know that all sensations can- 
 not be recalled with equal ease and clearness. It 
 is much more diflScult to reproduce sensations 
 awakened by the sense of smell or of taste than of 
 sight. Usually that which is seen by the eye is 
 more fully represented than objects of any of the 
 other senses. There are persons, however, who 
 recall auditory images with special facility, the 
 sound readily coming back into consciousness in 
 its quality or timbre. The memory is auditory 
 rather than visual. 
 
 Writers on psychology designate memory as 
 perfect and imperfect, spontaneous, tenacious, ver- 
 bal, philosophic, etc. These various types or con- 
 ditions of memory have their groundwork farther 
 back in the intellectual life. He who learns things 
 imperfectly will remember imperfectly, while he 
 who has a clear mental vision and has gained the 
 habit of mastering objects of attention will possess 
 what may be called a perfect memory. Individu- 
 als having tenacious memory are such as dwell on 
 the subjects of knowledge or thought until they 
 are incorporated into the mental life. A sponta- 
 neous memory, a quick-acting memory, has its basis 
 in a mental constitution that is not sluggish in the 
 work it does, but rapidly passes from one point to 
 another in its intellectual activity. Those who have 
 
 65 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 great facility in committing words will most easily 
 recall words, and should their studies not extend 
 beyond the names or words learned it is certain 
 that the memory will be quite distinctively verbal. 
 With those endowed with philosophical memory 
 the intelligence is philosophical. They see things 
 as related in cause and effect or are otherwise linked 
 together, so that when memory goes back to the 
 fields traversed it reads into consciousness that 
 which appeared in consciousness when the knowl- 
 edge was gained. 
 
 Persons belonging to unlike professions will give 
 different descriptions of places or scenes which 
 they had visited, because, though they were equal- 
 ly wide awake^ their attention became engaged 
 according to the profession to which the life was 
 devoted. The lawyer recalls one class of facts, 
 the physician another, the scientist another, the 
 statesman another. What we remember, how 
 much we remember, is determined by the mental 
 life we have been living. 
 
 The secret of a good memory is close discrimi- 
 nating attention in the gaining of knowledge. The 
 memory can be trained by trainiiig the mind to 
 acquire. The first forms of knowledge — the per- 
 ceptional, the presentative — appear in the repre- 
 sentative, and that only is representative, as we 
 have before stated, which had existed in the pre- 
 sentative. Artificial methods of developing the 
 memory are vicious, or if not vicious, they are 
 
 66 
 
SECOND FOEMS OP KNOWLEDGE 
 
 worthless. A resort to that which is artificial is, 
 at least, a waste of time and energy. The fullest 
 provision for a reliable memory is made in the 
 regular action of our mental life in the gaining of 
 knowledge. The following principles are worthy 
 of mention. 
 
 1st. There must be a vivid and clear perception 
 of the objects of knowledge whatever sense is em- 
 ployed. Dim perceptions fade away. 
 
 2d. The attention should be sharp, compre- 
 hensive, and uninterrupted. 
 
 3d. The knowledge gained should be, not, as is 
 too often the case in reading, a mere apprehension 
 of the words but all that which the words hold. 
 
 4th. A frequent mental repetition of that which 
 was in the field of thought, that the impression 
 may be deepened. Learning to think is learning 
 to remember. The thorough and rational student, 
 he who goes down into the heart of the things to 
 which he turns his attention, will not fail to have 
 a good memory. 
 
 67 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 CHAPTEE XVI 
 
 SECOND FORMS OF K^OWIjEBGB-- (Continued) 
 
 (ASSOCIATION IN THE ACTION OF MEMORY) 
 
 It is a universal experience that one thought 
 suggests another, that one object calls another 
 object to mind. Under some principle all our 
 knowledge is related, nothing stands forth alone. 
 Meeting an individual you inquire about his 
 parents, or the school which once you both at- 
 tended together, or someone you had known to be 
 his intimate friend, or some project which had 
 been started in the community in which he lived — 
 indeed scores of inquiries, perhaps, arise in your 
 mind relating to things which would not have been 
 thought of had not this person made his appear- 
 ance. Objects which enter into experience are 
 widely linked together. This is shown in all the 
 movements of our lives. We enter into conversa- 
 tion and field after field is traversed which were 
 not thought of when the interview began. A per- 
 son is suddenly called out to address an assembly 
 and commences his speech with no definite line of 
 thought to present, but each sentence suggests 
 something further to say, and he spends a half 
 hour in giving utterance to thoughts which succes- 
 
 68 
 
ASSOCIATION : 
 
 sively rise up within him. Some law producing 
 these results is ever operating in the field of con- 
 sciousness. 
 
 How is the specific flow of varying conscious- 
 ness kept up ? Why do not the mind's movements 
 stop when the subject which has engaged the at- 
 tention is dismissed ? The principles of associa- 
 tion, which are in continued operation, it is not 
 difficult to discover. 
 
 "When of two ideas which had existed in the 
 mind — had been thought together, were objects 
 of attention at the same time — one comes back 
 into consciousness the other comes with it. This 
 is commonly called association of ideas. The ideas 
 were in company and they remained in company. 
 The philosophy of this it is not very easy to state. 
 Do the ideas attract each other like a magnet and 
 the iron ? It is not reasonable to suppose that this 
 is the true explanation, or a sufficient explanation, 
 as ideas have an existence only while the mind is 
 in action upon the subject for which they stand. 
 The ground of inseparableness is not in the ideas 
 alone but in the mind in which the ideas are in- 
 hering. Together they were associated in a 
 mental act at first, which put them both on the 
 same plane for reproduction. But whatever theory 
 we adopt, the fact is a key that unlocks the move- 
 ments of life in the reproductive energies of the 
 mind. Under this force the past rushes up before 
 us, and memory is able to do her work. 
 
 69 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 But association has a wider range than is found 
 in the above statement. Presentations or impres- 
 sions that occur in immediate succession, tend to 
 suggest one another. This is certainly true if in the 
 succession one of these grew out of the other, hav- 
 ing the same root. This widens the former princi- 
 ple to a considerable extent and helps to unite the 
 most of our ideas or experiences more or less 
 closely together. In this we have what is called 
 the law of contiguity. It may be contiguity in 
 place. In this, objects seen together or nearly to- 
 gether tend to recall one another because, per- 
 haps, they are associated with the same place, or 
 because attention was given to them at the same 
 time. Contiguity in time — leaving place out of the 
 account — operates under the same law. Meeting 
 two persons while on a journey subsequently the 
 remembrance of one tends to call up the other, be- 
 cause of the identity of time in which they were 
 seen. 
 
 There is a principle of resemblance that some- 
 times comes into action. A very tall man reminds 
 you of some other tall man whom you have known. 
 A person with an extremely large nose suggests to 
 you some individual who also possesses similar 
 extraordinary features. Such as these are illus- 
 trations in the world of sense. You hear the 
 name of Napoleon and you think of Csesar, Hanni- 
 bal and Alexander. They were alike in being great 
 generals. Socrates is mentioned and immediately 
 
 70 
 
ASSOCIATION 
 
 Plato and Aristotle come into your mind. A great 
 philosopher suggests another distinguished phi- 
 losopher. Michael Angelo was a famous painter, 
 and when he is spoken of, you cannot help think- 
 ing of Kaphael, Eubens, and many others who have 
 enriched the world with their genius in art. These 
 are illustrations under the principle of similarity 
 in the sphere of talents and achievements. 
 
 There is a law of contrast through which sug- 
 gestions are awakened. The dwarf suggests the 
 giant ; one color the opposite ; the rich the poor ; 
 the strong the feeble. Boys in college call a col- 
 lege mate of large proportions the " babe " or 
 '' infant." 
 
 Our sole purpose in this exposition of principles 
 is to bring to attention the laws which operate in 
 the growth of mind, in putting the knowledge we 
 have gained at our disposal. Hence we wish to 
 emphasize the fact that the law of association acts 
 most fully when the original cognitions are most 
 vivid. Dim perceptions supply but little for asso- 
 ciations to work upon. For this reason much that 
 has had some place in life has faded away. There 
 can be no effective association without clear and 
 well-defined knowledge lying back of it. Associa- 
 tion is the link, but there must be material to be 
 joined by these links. This requires interested 
 attention in the gaining of knowledge. 
 
 In association we have the track along which 
 memory — both voluntary and involuntary — moves. 
 
 71 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 A thousand things belonging to the past come up 
 before us because memory has struck the trail along 
 which they exist. When the will is employed in 
 our search for the past it is to find the track that 
 leads to it. We do not accidentally and outside of 
 the operation of law gather up the treasures of the 
 mind which were wrought out in retreating time. 
 Not more strictly is it true that all the stars in the 
 heavens are held together by the force of gravita- 
 tion, making nature one, than that the elements of 
 our knowledge are in association which experience 
 has supplied, but unfortunately it i-s also true that 
 many of our mental acquisitions are too indistinct 
 to be of much service. Intense mental action at 
 every step in life would supply a world of stars of 
 the first magnitude lying in the background of each 
 moment as we move on into the future. 
 
 CHAPTEE XVII 
 
 SECOND FORMS OF Kl^OWLEDGE— Continued 
 (the life as perpetuated by memory) 
 
 The value of knowledge as knowledge is two- 
 fold. 1. It is information, it is light. It is ma- 
 terial on which the mind acts. It does not have 
 an independent existence. The mind does not act 
 
 7Z 
 
LIFE AS PEEPETUATED BY MEMOEY 
 
 on that which is outside of itself, but on that which 
 is within, for the outer world is beyond apprehen- 
 sion till sensations stir the brain and awaken the 
 mind. 2. It is an energy of the mind. It is dif- 
 ficult to see how there can be talent or power in 
 the absence of knowledge. Conscious knowledge 
 is a stimulation of intellect, it is intellect at work 
 upon and according to some specific object. As 
 without intellect there can be no knowledge, so 
 without knowledge there can be no productive en- 
 ergy of mind. Education is the mind's intelligence. 
 There is no education held by the mind as a sepa- 
 rable realityo Truth lives forever ; ideas have no 
 existence outside of mind, and only in the action 
 of mind. They are mind at work, and cease to be 
 when the mind is unemployed. Make a library of 
 all the thoughts of the race, and then should the 
 race perish, the library being still in existence, the 
 ideas would have perished. Learning, knowledge, 
 ideas, are mind movements, out of existence when 
 out of consciousness, brought into existence again 
 when through reproductive power they once more 
 take shape in the mind. 
 
 In saying these things we do not mean that past 
 intellectual work has become valueless when we 
 cease to be conscious of it. It has produced an 
 energy in our being that can never perish. There 
 is accumulated power which can make the past 
 live again ; that which has gone can be revived by 
 the touch of mind as though by a magician's wand. 
 
 73 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 Under laws of association we hold on to the past. 
 Memory makes known to us our identity from the 
 beginning of conscious life up to the present, and 
 to this it probably will certify during our entire 
 immortality. Though sleep breaks in upon the 
 flow of consciousness, and at times there may be 
 prolonged illness in which we lose sight of all real- 
 ities, yet memory reaches back over these dark 
 periods and gazes on the experiences of the years 
 long since gone by. These experiences have not 
 only historic certitude but an abiding existence in 
 the life of the present hour. They were ours once, 
 they are ours still. The present minute means 
 more than the sixty seconds of time it covers ; in it 
 is a life wrought, it may be, into sublime realiza- 
 tions of good or degraded conditions of evil. We 
 could not well dispense with the ability to recall 
 the past, for this life would be disintegrated or 
 perish moment by moment and it is of the highest 
 importance that the treasures of the past shall en- 
 rich our lives, making us in the present wiser and 
 nobler than we otherwise would be. Could the 
 young be led to realize that every deed is imperish- 
 able ; that every thought will cling to the soul ; 
 that every word spoken has an echo that will never 
 die; that every impulse works its way into the 
 fibres of being and will not let go its hold, all of 
 these exalting or debasing character, so that the 
 future is a living out the forces implanted in the 
 days of the past, the controlling energy of the years 
 
 74 
 
LIFE AS PEEPETUATED BY MEMORY 
 
 through which they have come would be appreci- 
 ated. Memory in the exercise of its specific office 
 summons as witnesses that which was good and 
 that which was evil. It goes back to childhood 
 and brings before us the scenes of our early years. 
 We hear a mother's voice and the commands of a 
 father. We gaze upon the circle at the fireside and 
 live over again the scenes through which we passed 
 in our home life. Our school-days appear in view, 
 and the tasks we successfully performed and the 
 failures we made come back to us again. Memory 
 tells us of duties discharged and responsibilities 
 shirked ; of that which was noble or ignoble in our 
 deeds. The ambitions we cherished, with the 
 methods to which we resorted to realize those 
 ambitions, stare us in the face. We have in our 
 possession the evidence of that which was worthy 
 or unworthy as food for reflection, giving us pleas- 
 ure or pain. That which was upright continually 
 bestows blessings upon us, while the evil we have 
 done is a perpetual wound — a running sore — in 
 our moral nature, and an instigation to conscience 
 to apply her stripes. Memory is truthful, a wit- 
 ness that cannot be impeached. John B. Gough 
 was accustomed to say : " I would give my right 
 hand to banish from memory the scenes of my 
 earlier years." 
 
 The indestructibility of memory should make 
 parents careful as to the influence of the home, and 
 watchful as to the associations into which their 
 
 75 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 children are thrown during the tender years of 
 their life. The principle applies to the unnum- 
 bered things which make up the experiences of 
 youth, of manhood, and womanhood — the books 
 that are read ; the songs that are sung ; the asso- 
 ciations of the schoolroom ; the attendance upon 
 church or absence from the house of God; the 
 social circles in which the young move ; all that 
 for good or evil enters into the education of the 
 young, shaping character and supplying scenes on 
 which we gaze for the ennobling or the degradation 
 of our being. Thus we are to-day what we were 
 yesterday ; the yesterday, though gone, still works 
 in our life. The sports of youth, the studies of 
 youth, the association of youth, the purposes 
 formed and ambitions cherished, whatever had 
 made up the years of the past linger both in char- 
 acter and in their imagery to give reality to the 
 present. What we work out to-day bears but a 
 small proportion to the content of our being, which 
 memory may at any time bring back into con- 
 sciousness. With what care should each day be 
 lived that the to-morrow be richer in knowledge, 
 wiser in purpose, nobler in thought, purer in im- 
 agination, more perfect in character, and happier 
 in the consciousness of an upright past. 
 
 76 
 
EEPRODUCTION AS IMAGINATION 
 
 CHAPTEE XVIII 
 
 SECOND FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE— (aor^]^^r^wecZ) 
 (reproduction as imagination) 
 
 Imagination, in general terms, is the power of 
 imaging. In the act of memory there is reproduc- 
 tion of some particular perceptions recognized as 
 such ; in an act of imagination there is the repro- 
 duced image without necessary recognition. The 
 past cannot be literally brought forward to the 
 present to become an object of perception, but it 
 can be reproduced in the [mind as it had appeared 
 when perceived. Through the senses we, day by 
 day, are observers of material things. We per- 
 ceive them through sight and hearing, through 
 touch and taste and smell. They make on the 
 mind impressions of objects as to size, form, color, 
 sound, roughness, smoothness, taste, fragrance — 
 properties almost innumerable. By means of 
 these experiences, there is developed in the mind 
 distinct apprehension of the different properties 
 possessed by material objects. The words square, 
 triangular, round, red, yellow, green, rough, sweet, 
 bitter, loud, shrill, etc., have a meaning to us in 
 the absence of material manifestations for which 
 they stand. We have gained specific notions relat- 
 
 77 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 ing to a variety of properties or phenomena, and 
 can image them after the objects in which the 
 properties appeared are beyond the reach of our 
 senses. 
 
 It is necessary to bear in mind that imagination 
 is supplied with its material — that from which its 
 images are formed — by the knowledge and experi- 
 ences of the past in the natural world. The in- 
 numerable objects, varied scenes, and changing 
 phenomena of the months and years gone by, 
 which have made their impressions on the mind, 
 furnish the content of all the reproductions or im- 
 ages which imagination holds up before us. We 
 repicture them, in wholes or in parts, singly or in 
 groups, unchanged or in combination, by an in- 
 voluntary inflow of the past, or through a purpose- 
 ful selection from the vast field of experience. 
 
 Anything in the past may be more or less clearly 
 imaged. It is the scenery which has been woven 
 and hung up before us, and upon which we can 
 gaze. We are, in the action of imagination, what 
 we have made ourselves to be by the life we have 
 lived. It is this which largely gives a meaning to 
 the language we use, makes communication one 
 with another intelligible, and supplies a ground- 
 work for all progress and improvement. 
 
 But it must not be supposed that all the past 
 comes back to us with equal vividness. The im- 
 agination is controlled by its dominant perceptions. 
 The picture gallexy of the soul is hung with views 
 
 78 
 
EEPEODUCTIOK AS IMAGINATION 
 
 drawn by the brush that painted the deepest colors 
 in the panorama of previous experience. He who 
 has dwelt amid, and been stirred by, the crags and 
 bold mountain scenery naturally traverses in im- 
 agination those regions which have been seen to 
 be so bold and rugged. There may pass from your 
 vision the events of the placid days while out upon 
 the ocean, but the shipwreck you witnessed abides 
 with you in fadeless colors. He paints war scenes 
 most vividly who has gazed most intently upon its 
 horrors. To appreciate maternal tenderness we 
 must feel the touch of a mother's hand. The beauty 
 of a lovely landscape which had charmed your vis- 
 ion comes into view many, many times, while all 
 about it has perished from your imagination. The 
 stores which the imagination holds have been 
 gathered from that which has made the deepest 
 impression, which has interested you the most. 
 
 The imagination is active in every rational move- 
 ment. The architect in planning a building sees 
 it all before a brick is laid or a nail driven. The 
 inventor conceives an end to be reached, and then 
 constructs a device to achieve the desired result. 
 The general makes his plan of campaign before 
 giving a single order to his troops. The farmer 
 sows his seed in the autumn for the harvest to be 
 reaped the coming summer. The young man 
 chooses his vocation in view of anticipated results 
 to be attained fifty years hence. 
 
 We are all the time reaching out beyond the 
 
 79 
 
 I 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 present. This is involved in a life governed by 
 motives. We picture the future and prepare for it. 
 The years to come rise up before us and we make 
 our plans to fill this picture with concrete experi- 
 ences. In the very simplest things imagination is 
 employed — in the order the housewife makes for 
 the dinner ; in calling on the grocer for a pound of 
 tea ; in constructing steps for entrance at the door 
 of our dwelling. Something comes up before the 
 mind, is there imaged, before acts are performed. 
 
 Were it not for the imagination classified knowl- 
 edge would be impossible. Language is made of 
 general or class terms. Objects which resemble 
 each other are put into a class by themselves be- 
 cause of such resemblance. In this way our 
 knowledge is organized. The multeity is reduced 
 to a unity. The almost countless objects are ar- 
 ranged in a limited number of classes, and we have 
 terms standing for these several classes. All com^ 
 mon names are class-terms. Thus the words 
 mountain, valley, lake, tree, house, man, animal, bi-* 
 ped, quadruped, etc., stand for classes which pos- 
 sess certain characteristics common to all the ob- 
 jects in the same class. Hence the word mountain, 
 to the reader, has a specific meaning, and when a 
 certain elevation of land is seen or spoken of it is 
 called a mountain if it contains the characteristics 
 common to that class. You have in your mind — 
 in your imagination — the characteristics of the 
 class as to elevation, etc., or you could not put 
 
 80 
 
EEPEODUCTION AS IMAGINATION 
 
 this particular elevation into the class ; you would 
 not even know what the word meant. He who 
 reads intelligently any page, or listens to any 
 speaker employs his imagination in connection 
 with every common noun — class term — used ; and 
 it must be continually at work if the printed page 
 or spoken address conveys to him any intelligent 
 meaning. 
 
 It is impossible to conceive of any mental power 
 of more value than this. It comes into use at the 
 very beginning of our intelligence. It has a place 
 in all knowledge. Even in perception, the first com- 
 plete form of knowledge, imagination is employed 
 if the object discerned by the senses has any sig- 
 nificance. To perceive trees along the wayside, 
 cattle in the field, horses harnessed to a carriage, 
 so that to yourself or to another you can assert 
 that these definite objects have been perceived, you 
 must in your perceptions put each into the class 
 where it belongs. To call one set of objects trees, 
 another cattle, and another horses is to make class 
 distinctions ; and when you see a portion of the 
 vegetable world as trees, or of the animal world as 
 cattle or horses, you discern them as conforming 
 to certain great class realities which class realities 
 are purely creations of your imagination. All 
 class-notions are formed and held in the mind by 
 the imagination, though constructed according to 
 principles of classification and reasoning. 
 
 This leads us to say that science in its unfold- 
 
 81 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 ings is largely indebted to the imagination. The 
 progressive scientist does not rest on what is al- 
 ready determined, as a finality, but finds in it a 
 prophecy of something more, as yet in the region 
 of the unknown. There are problems still to be 
 solved. But how is the solution to be reached ? 
 The unknown should correspond^ in vital partic- 
 ulars, with the known, but cannot be wholly like 
 it ; there must be something in addition to the 
 known. The search for the new or unlike, on the 
 basis of the like, calls for sharp discrimination in 
 the field of the probable. To discover is to widen 
 the known out into new fields into which imagina- 
 tion has penetrated, and must penetrate before 
 science determines what is real. Imagination pro- 
 jects an ideal, and science verifies or disproves the 
 ideal. The hypothesis precedes the verification. 
 
 Scientists construct theories before they make 
 positive determinations. Newton conceived of 
 universal gravitation some time before he was able 
 by mathematical calculation to prove its existence. 
 In all scientific advancement the theoretical pre- 
 cedes the positive. Evolution, in a radical or 
 modified form, is accepted by all students of sci- 
 ence ; but as yet it is only a probability as a solu- 
 tion of the problems of nature. 
 
 82 
 
USE AND ABUSE OF IMAGINATION 
 
 CHAPTEE XIX 
 
 SECOND FORMS OF KN OWLm)GE-^ Continued 
 
 (USE AND ABUSE OF IMAGINATION) 
 
 Persons, though having the same employment 
 and actuated by the same motives, do not live pre- 
 cisely the same life. The forces within the soul 
 react unequally on that which comes from without. 
 No two individuals will give identically the same 
 report of an address to which thej^ had listened. 
 The reports may not contradict each other, but 
 will be diverse, because, and to the extent, of dif- 
 ferences in the mental furnishings of the listeners. 
 These differences are found principally in the do- 
 main of the imagination, that which the mind of 
 the listener supplies as the words fall on the ear. 
 We clothe from our own personality that which is 
 imparted to us. Witnesses in court, though strictly 
 honest, are sure to give testimony in which there 
 are varying elements depending on the varying 
 impressions received from the scene on which 
 they have gazed. 
 
 No other faculty of the mind is so liable to dis- 
 order as the imagination. Insanity is not an 
 aberration of judgment, it is not moral obliquity 
 in which there is false reasoning, but it is the sub- 
 
 83 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 jective mistaken for the objective ; it is the imagi- 
 nation running wild, obscuring the real. Mental 
 images take the place of outward objects. In hal- 
 lucinations the imaging faculty is abnormally ac- 
 tive, the unreal appears as the real, but the judg- 
 ment is not deceived. The images ^*will not 
 down" but they are known to be only images. 
 
 There is what is called day-dreaming, in which 
 there is no mental disease, but an excessive and 
 exclusive action of the imagination. It is harmful 
 in that it fosters the divorcing of energies which 
 should act jointly ; it is an unbalanced state of 
 mind. Imagination is valuable in mental copart- 
 nership, but^ should not be allowed to occupy the 
 whole field by itself. That is the best condition 
 of mind in which there is purposeful thinking to- 
 ward some definite end, all under control of the 
 will. To plan is very different from castle-build- 
 ing ; to move consistently through the great world 
 of thought is wholly unlike the floating of the 
 imagination through unreal fields whose posses- 
 sions are wholly unattainable. One is earnest, 
 serious, and disciplinary ; the other unnerves the 
 mind and squanders our energies. 
 
 The imagination grows from that upon which it 
 feeds. The child that is born into a vicious home 
 takes into its life poison which will never be 
 wholly eradicated. Vicious surroundings in a 
 community create peril for the moral life long after 
 the youth ceases to gaze upon them. Vile reading 
 
 84 
 
USE AND ABUSE OP IMAGINATION 
 
 contaminates the fountains of the soul, though the 
 polluting publications be immediately cast into 
 the flames. He who spends his youth in the 
 midst of virtuous associations will find coming back 
 to him in after years visions which will charm the 
 life and strengthen his purposes for the right. 
 The life of to-day is what we have made it to be. 
 The boy pictures Indian battle-scenes because he 
 has read of bloody carnage among the wild men of 
 the forest. Many a lad has had glowing visions 
 of pillage because his soul had been filled with 
 images of successful robbery. It is because of 
 this law of reproduction — creating an atmosphere 
 pure or impure, wholesome or poisonous — that it 
 may truthfully be said that " The child is the 
 father of the man." The imagination pays inter- 
 est on our investments — for good or evil — a thou- 
 sand fold. 
 
 Imagination is capable of exercising almost 
 unlimited control over the body. Young men 
 without number have plunged into every form of 
 vice through the passions which this faculty has 
 stimulated. To keep the body under, the imagi- 
 nation must be restrained from the dark paths of 
 evil and directed to fields that are pure. Much of 
 that which is called realistic in literature is terri- 
 bly harmful, from the painting of vile scenes, 
 though they be condemned in words. To pict- 
 ure vice in order to make it loathsome is worse 
 than folly : its tendency is to corrupt the imag- 
 
 85 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 ination and prepare for the surrender of the moral 
 life. 
 
 The normal activities of the body are to a great 
 extent under the control of the imagination. Many 
 astonishing results have followed its stimulation. 
 The senses of taste and smell are often at its mercy. 
 Tell a child, and many a grown person too, that 
 the cream is sour and it will taste sour, though 
 perfectly sweet. Halleck speaks of a member 
 of a family purchasing some perfectly fresh meat 
 who remarked at the table that he was sorry he 
 did not have some Frenchmen as guests at dinner, 
 since the meat would exactly suit them, as it was 
 so gamy and tender that it would not hang on the 
 butcher s hook. Some at once perceived an un- 
 mistakably putrid taste ; and one member of the 
 family, unable to endure the odor, left the table. 
 Many instances of death, from action of the imagi- 
 nation, have been recorded, such as the following : 
 A man was sentenced to die by the court. He was 
 blindfolded, a harmless incision was made in the 
 arm and tepid water allowed to trickle down it, 
 the attendants commenting on the progress of the 
 case — the flow of blood, the weakening of the 
 pulse, etc. — ^the criminal, supposing it all to be 
 genuine, soon died. Illustrations of the power of 
 the imagination over the body could be given al- 
 most without number. Indeed everyone has felt 
 this influence to a greater or less extent. 
 
 While the imagination is called into action in all 
 
 86 
 
USE AND ABUSE OP IMAGINATION 
 
 our knowledge, for we cannot have every object to 
 which knowledge relates present at every moment, 
 there are some domains of mental activity in which 
 it is specially active. This is true in the fine arts 
 generally. The painter conceives and then works 
 out an ideal scene. The sculptor employs his 
 chisel to find in the marble the conceptions he has 
 formed. The musician mentally hears the strain 
 before he produces its concrete expression. As an 
 artist he goes far beyond the mechanism of the 
 composition and charms you with music which 
 cannot be printed on the page. That which is 
 most exquisite is not embedded in the muscles of 
 the fingers, but breathes out from the soul. Poetry 
 is not rhyme or inverted phrases, but imagery 
 wrought out by the imagination, whether expressed 
 in metre or in prose form. Rigid didactic utter- 
 ances never reach the inspiration of eloquence ; it 
 is only as imagination clothes the theme in the 
 forms and colorings of beauty that the audience 
 is taken captive by the speaker. 
 
 To guide the imagination, make a proper choice 
 of the objects of perception and attention. To 
 quicken and strengthen the imagination, (1) 
 Cause your perceptions to be vivid and intense. 
 (This is under the same law that operates in 
 memory.) (2) Give special prominence to the 
 reading, studies, and conversation which call into 
 exercise the image-making faculty. In doing this, 
 accustom yourself to make the imagery of thought 
 
 87 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 clear and vivid. Do not allow yourself to stop 
 with the words, but reach out for their content. 
 That which is vividly produced will be vividly re- 
 produced. 
 
 CHAPTEE XX 
 
 THIRD FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 (first step— concepts) 
 
 We have considered two forms of knowledge 
 the human being gains — the presentative and rep- 
 resentative. We do not see how the intellect 
 could be developed without perception, imagina- 
 tion, and memory. But with these alone the scope 
 of intellectual activity would be much less than 
 our daily needs. 
 
 In defining man he is called " a rational animal." 
 He is an animal in common with all the brute 
 world, but to distinguish him from the rest of the 
 animal kingdom, he is said to possess a rational 
 nature, that is, reasoning powers. If this is his 
 special differentiating faculty we need, in this 
 discussion, to give to it careful scrutiny, and trace 
 its development. To perceive, to image our per- 
 ceptions, and to recognize them in their time and 
 space relations, supply a necessary foundation of 
 intelligence. But there are other forms of knowl- 
 
 88 
 
CONCEPTS 
 
 edge which become constituents of our life. Our 
 senses, in perception, make known to us individ- 
 ual things ; imagination images individual things ; 
 memory recognizes individual things as imaged 
 by the imagination. But mental life would be 
 restricted to very narrow limits, if knowledge did 
 not go beyond these two fundamental forms. 
 
 The mind possesses the power not only to per- 
 ceive objects by means of the senses, but to per- 
 ceive relations which such objects sustain to each 
 other. Now, relations are as much a reality as 
 things, and the mind is as capable of perceiving 
 the reality — or actuality — of relations as the real- 
 ity of things. It is evident that objects must first 
 be known, in order that relations may be observed ; 
 but being known they are seen to be more or less 
 like each other. At an early age the child notices 
 resemblances, and is disposed to call such objects 
 as quite closely agree, by the same name. He is 
 told, for instance, that a certain animal is a horse. 
 He sees other animals which bear a general like- 
 ness to his father's horse — in shape, in movement, 
 in the use to which it is put, and he calls them all 
 horses. He has gained the conception of class. 
 This process of associating objects together to 
 form classes goes on indefinitely, so that in time 
 he gives a class name to everything he perceives. 
 The mental process is comparison. In comparing 
 he notices agreements and differences ; he joins 
 objects together in the same class because of 
 
 89 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 agreements, he separates into different classes 
 those things which are unlike. He learns to dis- 
 tinguish, so as to call one animal a horse, another 
 a cow, another a dog, etc., because of marked 
 differences seen to exist. In this way he builds 
 up as many classes as the radical differences ob- 
 served. This is the first step in thinking. We 
 call it conception. In perceiving a single object, 
 simply as an object, without relation to a class, we 
 have what may be called a primary or first notion ; 
 but perceived as a constituent of a class, we have 
 a class or general notion. An object appearing 
 to the sense of sight, simply as having a certain 
 shape, color, movement, etc., unrelated to any- 
 thing else, is merely an object, one of millions 
 of objects, it may be ; when it is perceived as a 
 horse it stands for a class, and it means much 
 more to us than simply a thing. In this way 
 nature and all realities become organized into 
 class wholes as a process of thought. This is the 
 first step which the mind takes in acquiring the 
 third form of knowledge. It gains class-notions. 
 The mental operation is spoken of as conception — 
 the product as a concept, a general or class-notion. 
 Along with this work of gaining general notions 
 there has been a development of language. We 
 have before called attention to the fact that every 
 name, or common noun, expresses a class-notion. 
 It has also been said in a previous chapter that 
 our language is full of class-terms. We use them 
 
 90 
 
CONCEPTS 
 
 in expressing onr thoughts, in all verbal inter- 
 course, in all written communications, even in 
 thinking itself. Hence, as we have said, language 
 and concept — making progress side by side, they 
 develop together and they cannot be separated. 
 Into the terms the notions are crystallized. The 
 class-word stands for the class-notion. The notion 
 nestles in the word, it gives meaning to the word, 
 and the word is the vehicle of the notion. 
 
 By this form of knowledge we do not enlarge 
 the field of the senses, but scrutinize, organize, 
 and give meaning to that which the senses make 
 known to us. We extend our knowledge though 
 we do not increase the number of objects in the 
 world of sense. Yet we come to know much more 
 about objects of sense. The statement frequently 
 made, that we do not thus add to our knowledge, 
 shows great lack in the understanding of the sub- 
 ject. It is true we unfold what was before en- 
 folded, we make explicit only what was implicit ; 
 but it was enfolded in the thing, implicit in the 
 thing, not enfolded and implicit in the mind. 
 
 Nothing enlarges our field of view more than the 
 employment of this elaborative faculty. Much of 
 advanced thinking consists in enlarging, correct- 
 ing, deepening, and making more definite the class- 
 notions formed. This is true in every field of 
 science, in every domain of study and the arts, in 
 every sphere of human activity. Indeed, civiliza- 
 tion means so much more to-day than in the past, 
 
 91 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 not in that new worlds have been discovered, but 
 because of what has been wrought out in the world 
 already within reach of our senses. The future will 
 surpass the present because of the deeper penetra- 
 tion into the nature and relations of things. 
 
 In defining man "a rational animal," we first 
 discover his superiority in the capability of form- 
 ing concepts or class-notions. Nature is not to him 
 objects only, but classes of objects. All parts are 
 interdependent, nothing is in isolation. We have 
 reached the highest generalization of these vast 
 creations, in that sublime unity of all their parts 
 to which we apply the designation, '^Universe." 
 It turns, moves, and proceeds as a whole. From 
 this we progress by a series of subordinate grada- 
 tions, from larger to smaller concepts, until w^e 
 finally reach the individual. Or tracing in the 
 opposite direction, which is the psychological, we 
 ascend in our notions from the individual up to 
 the class, consisting of several individuals put 
 together because of their resemblance; thence up 
 to higher class-notions from the union of lower 
 concepts, till at last we grasp the all, as the high- 
 est concept possible to secure in the unity of the 
 whole. This grasping of the all, no portion of the 
 animal kingdom below man can do. Its powers 
 are defective in the very first step essential to 
 thinking. It is guided by sense, but it is not rea- 
 sonable to suppose that definite abstract concep- 
 tions are formed. 
 
 92 
 
JUDGMENTS 
 
 CHAPTEE XXI 
 
 THIRD FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE— (Cowifmr^ec?) 
 
 (SECOND STEP— judgments) 
 
 The mind in its work of elaboration does not 
 stop with the classification of objects — the produc- 
 tion of class-notions — but discovers that the classes 
 of which notions are formed sustain relations to 
 each other. These notions possess agreement or 
 disagreement — that is something may be said affir- 
 matively or negatively of them as well as of the 
 individuals which compose them. Every proposi- 
 tion or simple sentence is an illustration of this 
 fact, as for instance, " Man is mortal," " the 
 weather is cold," "Man is a biped," "horses are 
 quadrupeds," " birds possess wings," " some men 
 are learned." Or negatively, " some men are not 
 learned," " horses are not bipeds," " air is not a 
 solid," " water will not intoxicate," " no human be- 
 ing is omniscient." 
 
 Language is almost wholly made up of proposi- 
 tions, either affirmative or negative, because our 
 knowledge or thinking consists of the perception 
 of agreement or disagreement in the relation things 
 and classes of things bear to each other. This 
 shows a distinct advance on the plane of thinking 
 
 93 
 
MAN-BUILDINtf 
 
 over the formation of class-notions. Something is 
 affirmed or denied — in whole or in part — of all class 
 objects. The affirmation or denial is a judgment. 
 Did the mind stop with the formation of concepts, 
 the work done would be comparatively useless. 
 We need to understand the character of these 
 general notions, their place in the great world of 
 being or action, the use to which they can be 
 put, the lessons they teach, etc. Every page of 
 any book contains scores of declarations — ex- 
 pressed judgments — of an affirmative or nega- 
 tive character. 
 
 All communications, whether vocal, written, or 
 printed, are made up of propositions in which 
 something is said about the objects for which gen- 
 eral notions stand, or in which class realities are 
 put into relations with individuals. 
 
 Largely judgments grow out of observation and 
 experience. They are gradually acquired as the 
 days and years go by; as new fields of activity 
 and study are traversed ; as the attention is turned 
 successively toward the realities by which we are 
 surrounded. The farmer draws out from his oc- 
 cupation one set of judgments, the merchant an- 
 other, the mechanic another, the lawyer another, 
 the physician another, the minister still another. 
 We are constantly accumulating judgments which, 
 if accurate, represent knowledge. The acquisitions 
 of scholarship are an enlargement of the field of 
 accurate judgments, the extension of the field of 
 
 94 
 
JUDGMENTS 
 
 thought in the direction in which scholarship is 
 prosecuted. 
 
 We should not make the mistake of supposing 
 that judgments are always reliable ; any mental 
 affirmation is a judgment, whether true or false. 
 The child's view of everything of which he gains 
 some knowledge is sure to change as he gets a 
 better and fuller understanding of the world in 
 which he lives. Persons of mature years are con- 
 stantly correcting the opinions they had formed. 
 Further light dispels delusions which had lurked 
 in the darkness. But true or false, accurate or in- 
 accurate, judgments are the mode of the mind's 
 action in passing on beyond the mere classifica- 
 tion of objects of sense, or class-notions in any 
 department of being or reality. 
 
 All thinking must be carried forward under law. 
 There are fixed conditions for the formation and 
 development of judgments. All logicians agree 
 that there are three primary laws of thought. 
 They are a necessity, we cannot do otherwise than 
 to observe them if legitimate conclusions are 
 reached. 
 
 1. Laio of IdeMtity. — Whatever is is. A thing 
 must be identical with itself. To the same words 
 unlike meanings are sometimes given, but then 
 they are not the same things, and when employed 
 in different parts of an argument they must be 
 used in the same sense or no conclusion can be 
 reached. We do not bring forward any proof of 
 
 95 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 the law of identity, it is not susceptible of proof 
 because it is fundamental, and is seen with the 
 force of absolute certainty. If a judgment is true 
 to-day it will be true to-morrow, it always has 
 been true and it always will be. Thus man is man, 
 animals are animals. 
 
 We do not mean by this that nature stands still, 
 that theories remain unchanged, that civilization 
 has always the same content. We know it to be 
 true that the present condition of the material uni- 
 verse is the product of the action of innumerable 
 forces through an indejGinitely long period of time ; 
 that on the earth changes are constantly taking 
 place ; that nothing is stable, and that man him- 
 self is never twice alike in his powers, his charac- 
 ter, and his life. We know that change is the 
 law of being. But when we speak of the law of 
 identity, when we say that w^hatever is is, that 
 a thing is identical with itself, we are affirming 
 that terms must be used in the same sense in all 
 parts of the same argument, otherwise endless con- 
 fusion must result. Without this there can be no 
 argument. We may speak of man as mortal or as 
 immortal, but in the same connection we must con- 
 fine our judgment to one of the two meanings. 
 We may not use the two interchangeably. Man the 
 mortal is mortal ; man the immortal is immortal. 
 The law of identity is introduced into logic, in all 
 valid thinking, to make judgments precise. 
 
 2. Lmo of Contradiction (perhaps better called 
 
 96 
 
JUDGMENTS 
 
 Law of Ifon-contradidion), — A thing cannot at the 
 same time and place both be and not be. A man 
 cannot be both honest and dishonest at the same 
 time. Of two different transactions one may be 
 honest and the other dishonest, but the same trans- 
 action cannot be both honest and dishonest. When 
 two propositions are contradictory, they cannot 
 both be true. This second law follows from the 
 first as a necessity. It is only another form of 
 statement of the same thing. An object cannot be 
 red and not red. 
 
 3. Laio of Excluded Middle, — Everything must 
 either be or not be, there is no alternative, no mid- 
 dle course. An apple is either sour or not sour, 
 an orange is either round or not round. In every- 
 thing there is some particular quality or the ab- 
 sence of such quality, one or the other. It must 
 be borne in mind that the only opposite to a qual- 
 ity or statement is the negative of such quality or 
 statement. "We say that a man is either tall or not 
 tall, we may not say that he is tall or short, for he 
 might be of medium height. 
 
 Another law is given by some writers called The 
 Laio of Sufficient Reason. Everything — event, phe- 
 nomenon, or relation — must have a reason for its 
 being, and being what it is. We cannot conceive 
 of anything coming into existence, anything trans- 
 piring, without a cause — an adequate or sufficient 
 cause. A man is found dead on the street, there 
 must have been a cause of death. 
 
 97 
 
MAK-BUILDING 
 
 The above are laws conditioning and regulating 
 thought. They are self-evident, they do and must 
 operate in all our judgments. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXII 
 THIRD FORMS OF KNOWIjEBGc^— (Continued) 
 
 (THIRD STEP— REASONING) 
 
 " As in the judgment," says Halleck, " we com; 
 pare two concepts and decide that they agree or 
 differ, so in reasoning we compare two judgments. 
 From this comparison we draw a third judgment, 
 thus completing a process of reasoning." It is 
 hence seen that there are three, and only three 
 stages in thought : 1. Conception. 2. Judgment. 
 3. Reasoning. The product of these are : 1. Con- 
 cepts. 2. Judgments. 3. Argument. Concepts 
 and judgments we have briefly discussed ; reason- 
 ing or argument we must now consider. 
 
 As in conception we construct classes out of in- 
 dividual objects, and in judgment we state the re- 
 lation of classes — comparing one with another — so 
 in reasoning we compare judgments. An argu- 
 ment is a process of thought in which by compar- 
 ing judgments an inference or conclusion is drawn. 
 Elaboration or thought goes no farther than this. 
 
 There are two distinct forms of reasoning, called 
 
 98 
 
REASONING 
 
 in logic, the deductive and the inductive. In the 
 deductive we reason from the general to the par- 
 ticular. That which can be affirmed of a class can 
 be affirmed of all the particulars which make up 
 the class. It is an axiom, as will appear when 
 stated as follows. That which can be affirmed of 
 all — not collectively but distributively — can be af- 
 firmed of each. For instance : 
 
 All men are mortal. 
 John is a man — therefore 
 John is mortal. 
 
 If true of all men, it must be true of John who 
 is a man. 
 
 In the negative form, that which can be denied 
 of all can be denied of each. 
 
 No man is perfect. 
 John is a man — therefore 
 John is not perfect. 
 
 Find what is true of a class, either positively or 
 negatively, and it must be true of each of the parts 
 which make up the class. 
 
 We call the argument thus formally stated a 
 syllogism. "The name syllogism means the join- 
 ing together in thought of two propositions " from 
 which a third is drawn. We have thus in a syllo- 
 gism three propositions or judgments, the first two 
 are called premises, as they are the ground-work 
 of the conclusion ; they contain within themselves 
 
 99 
 
 LofC. 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 the reason for the conclusion. The third judgment 
 is called the conclusion or inference, because it is 
 drawn from the foregoing. 
 
 It is important to bear in mind also that every 
 syllogism has three and only three terms, and 
 hence that each term appears twice. The terms 
 are named respectively major term, minor term, 
 and middle term. The premise usually stated first, 
 is called the major premise, and contains the ma- 
 jor and middle terms. The premise that follows — 
 the minor premise — contains the minor and middle 
 terms. The conclusion found by comparing the 
 major and minor premises by means of a common 
 term — called middle term — contains the major and 
 minor terms. The reason for comparing the major 
 and minor premises is to find the relation between 
 the major and minor terms. The only purpose of 
 introducing the middle term is that we may have 
 a common means or measure of comparison. In 
 the major premise we compare the major term 
 with the middle term as just stated ; in the minor 
 premise we compare the minor term with the mid- 
 dle term ; and if the major and minor terms both 
 agree with the middle term, they must agree with 
 each other. The conclusion states the resulting 
 agreement of the major and minor terms. The 
 middle term is only a medium of comparison, as, in 
 practical life, the surveyor's chain, the yard meas- 
 ure in the store, the pound weight on the scales in 
 the grocery. We find agreement in length by using 
 
 100 
 
EEASONIKG 
 
 the yard stick, in quantity by using the pound 
 weight. 
 
 Can Henry graduate from College ? Yes. How 
 is that? Students who complete the prescribed 
 course of study graduate. 
 
 Henry has completed the prescribed course. 
 
 Henry can graduate. 
 
 The question raised related to Henry's gradua- 
 tion. In the first premise the condition of gradu- 
 ation is stated. 
 
 In the second premise it is affirmed that Henry 
 has met the conditions — the completion of the 
 course of study, for all students, and for Henry 
 consequently — therefore he can graduate. If 
 Henry had not completed the prescribed course 
 there would be a disagreement with the middle 
 term, and therefore the conclusion would be nega- 
 tive — he could not graduate. 
 
 The foregoing illustrations are sufficient to en- 
 able the reader to understand what is meant by 
 deductive reasoning. The conclusion is an explic- 
 it statement of what was implicit in the premises. 
 In the conclusion nothing is supplied that was not 
 in the premises — the preceding judgments — but it 
 is unfolded so as to stand out by itself. 
 
 Deduction may be said to be of but little service 
 beyond showing the process of mental action. 
 
 In inductive logic the reasoning is from particu- 
 lars to the general. It is the process employed in 
 detecting the general laws or uniformities, the re- 
 
 101 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 lations of cause and effect, or, in short, all the 
 general truths that may be asserted concerning the 
 numberless and diverse events that take place in 
 nature and our experience. The greater part, and, 
 some philosophers think, the whole of our knowl- 
 edge, is ultimately due to inductive reasoning. 
 (We cannot admit that it is all due to induction.) 
 
 It has been stated that knowledge begins with 
 particular objects. In time it is noticed that many 
 of these objects resemble each other, and we asso- 
 ciate them together and give them a name in com- 
 mon ; and thus, as has been said, we have con- 
 cepts. But experience is limited, and we have not 
 time or ability to make an exhaustive enumeration 
 of objects belonging to any class. Finding certain 
 traits or qualities in all the individuals of a class 
 so far as observation goes, we conclude these traits 
 or qualities will be found in the entire class. This 
 is induction. Having found it to be true that all 
 men in previous ages of the world have died, we 
 infer that all men are mortal. Discovering that no 
 man has ever been perfect in knowledge, we come 
 to the conclusion that limitation of knowledge is 
 inherent in man's nature. Newton discovered that 
 gravitation extended to all objects on the earth, 
 and he inferred that it prevailed everywhere 
 throughout the material universe. Man's inabil- 
 ity to annihilate matter, whatever physical or chem- 
 ical changes are wrought, has led scientists to hold 
 that matter is indestructible. 
 
 102 
 
KEASONING 
 
 By this method, and under a mental tendency 
 to universalize our experiences, we construct the 
 general from particulars ; we reach propositions 
 broader than the actual data gathered; we even 
 go so far as to believe in and teach a positive uni- 
 formity of nature. Every universal principle, ex- 
 cept first principles, is based on the knowledge 
 and light of experience. It is by induction that 
 all science has been built up — in the wide fields of 
 chemistry, geology, biology, botany, astronomy, 
 and even in psychology. Uniformities proclaim, 
 law. All advancement is step by step along the 
 pathway of experience and discovery, eventuating 
 in the generalization of particulars. No general 
 judgment has ever been formed but that extended 
 beyond the limit of direct observation. We pro- 
 ceed from the known to the unknown by virtue of 
 certain discovered agreements which, we hold, 
 authorize the extension of our theories beyond 
 the range of actual investigation. 
 
 It is evident there is much liability to error in 
 the inductions we make. This grows out of the 
 finiteness of our powers and the limitation of our 
 opportunities. But if in our investigations we can 
 go down so deeply as to find the fundamental lines 
 of unity and diversity, agreements and differences 
 which are radical, not accidental, we come much 
 nearer to absolute certainty. Many a coincidence 
 is not based on a principle, there is no law back 
 of it. But if there is mathematical proportion, or 
 
 103 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 structural correspondence, or functional similarity 
 there is a basis in our inductions for a conclusion 
 almost absolutely certain. 
 
 Such is the life which we as thinkers lead. "We 
 progress step by step. We form judgments, com- 
 pare and combine them, we move on from one 
 logical determination to another. Concepts are 
 wrought out and combined to form judgments ; 
 judgments are united in reasoning; one conclu- 
 sion becomes the premise in further argument, thus 
 every part of the universe of thought and being is 
 traversed with more or less skill, and successful 
 achievement in unfolding truth. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIII 
 
 THE LOGIC OF DEEDS 
 
 In defining man as a rational animal we desig- 
 nated the sphere he is made to fill. The life of a 
 human being is distinctively and characteristically 
 a life of thought. He is capable of making a 
 choice, acting under a purpose, looking definitely 
 toward some end. He forms plans and employs 
 means to execute the same. He is not like the 
 lower animal world, swayed by instinct, but has a 
 reason for what he does. In the gaining of a live- 
 lihood, in the pursuit of fame, in his efforts to 
 
 104 
 
THE LOGIC OF DEEDS 
 
 acquire scholarship, in practical politics, in the 
 study of statesmanship, in the mastering of a pro- 
 fession everything is done for a purpose. Some 
 desirable end is perceived ; the judgment is exer- 
 cised ; conclusions are reached and acts follow. 
 
 Agriculture, for instance, is a great problem 
 into which innumerable elements enter. These 
 are questions of soil, of climate, of the seasons, of 
 the chemical constitution of the various crops, of 
 soil exhaustion and soil fertilization, of drainage, 
 of rotation of crops, of the time for seeding, of the 
 time and mode of harvesting, of the markets, of 
 grazing, of preparation of food for stock, of the 
 housing of stock — questions chemical, mechanical, 
 commercial, and sanitary, which must all be con- 
 sidered to secure successful results. Premises are 
 laid down and conclusions drawn. From the vari- 
 ableness of conditions the premises are constantly 
 changing, requiring new conclusions. The farmer 
 will prosper only as he handles with skill these 
 complex questions, as he sees sharply and reasons 
 wisely. 
 
 When the merchant fails it is usually because 
 he has made a mistake in his logic. He occupies 
 a place between the producer and the consumer. 
 He must buy and sell. What shall he buy ? That 
 which he can sell. Shall he invest in certain new 
 productions, productions which have never been 
 on the market before ? Can he find sale for such 
 goods ? The answer, yes or no, must be an infer- 
 
 105 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 ence resting back on many conditions that are 
 favorable or unfavorable. In order to do a suc- 
 cessful business, he must provide for the public 
 what it wants ; he must have his goods on hand 
 at a proper season of the year ; he must please the 
 people as to price and still make a living profit ; 
 he must conduct his business so as to attract cus- 
 tomers; he must buy, but must not over-buy. 
 How to turn over his capital to avoid losses on the 
 one hand and make adequate profits on the other, 
 requires not only care but wisdom in which a mul- 
 titude of facts must co-operate to bring about a 
 definite result. It is all a problem of practical 
 logic in which accurate and comprehensive reason- 
 ing must be employed. He is the best merchant, 
 who, in addition to a genuine commercial spirit, 
 reasons carefully, broadly, and safely. 
 
 The physician is employed in a sphere in which 
 many diJfficulties must be overcome if any service 
 be rendered. Nearly every disease is internal — of 
 the lungs, heart, stomach, intestines, the circula- 
 tory system, the brain, the spinal cord, different 
 membranes, etc. His first work must be that of 
 diagnosis. He must determine and locate disease 
 while the diseased parts are out of sight — be- 
 yond the reach of the senses. His only possible 
 method is to reason from symptoms. He must 
 employ logic. His knowledge is purely inferen- 
 tial. A failure in this may be fatal. But the 
 disease once determined, how shall the patient be 
 
 106 
 
THE LOGIC OP DEEDS 
 
 treated ? Are there specifics ? He who trusts to 
 so-called specifics is liable to make mistakes with- 
 out number. There may be complications of 
 diseases, so that while one person would be bene- 
 fited by a certain medicine, another would be 
 greatly harmed. Then the constitution must be con- 
 sidered, for there may be special tendencies grow- 
 ing out of hereditary or local weaknesses. The 
 strength of vitality must be taken into the account, 
 the condition of the heart, the stage of the disease, 
 many things which should modify the treatment if 
 health is to be restored. So complex are many of 
 the cases which come into the hands of the physi- 
 cian, that the utmost care in reading the disease 
 and in treating the same is required, and it is not 
 strange that mistakes are sometimes made. 
 
 In the application of law to human conduct as 
 administered by the courts, it is not easy to secure 
 absolute justice. Statutes are not always clear; 
 testimony is not infrequently uncertain; circum- 
 stances may enter into the case which were 
 unlooked for, and motives are not readily deter- 
 mined. Often everything depends on circumstan- 
 tial evidence, which needs the most careful sifting. 
 Was the alleged offence premeditated, or committed 
 on the spur of the moment under special excite- 
 ment ? Was the act aggressive or in self-defence ? 
 Was the party of sound mind, or insane, or labor- 
 ing under a delusion? The attorney argues the 
 case — on the law to the judge, and on the testi- 
 
 107 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 mony to the jury. He gives his reasons for the 
 position he assumes, of guilt or innocence of the 
 persons arraigned. It is a battle of logic. The 
 court seeks to find the truth, as an inference from 
 the law quoted, the testimony given, and the argu- 
 ments presented. 
 
 The minister, to effect any permanent good, must 
 support his appeals with reasons which convince 
 the judgment. The statesman aiming to make the 
 country prosperous must be able to understand 
 the complex forces in operation, to see in advance 
 the outcome of proposed legislation ; he must pos- 
 sess a prophetic gaze, which is not a guess, but a 
 logical reading of the movements of statehood. In 
 all industries, in all agencies of progress, in all re- 
 formatory operations everything is done for a pur- 
 pose, and the means employed have some specific 
 end in view. Civilization when regarded from the 
 stand-point of the arts, or educational appliances 
 and work, or the literature of a people, or the gov- 
 ernments and polity of nations has been developed 
 by man as a thinking being. All of this is the out- 
 come of thought, the product of man's rational 
 powers. History is an argument for good or evil. 
 The world is to-day what valid or perverted reason 
 has made it to be. 
 
 108 
 
TEAINING OF THOUGHT 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIV 
 TRAINING OF THE POWERS OF THOUGHT 
 
 The culture of every mental faculty is secured 
 by regular, consistent, and vigorous action. Non- 
 use results in feebleness. The form of use deter- 
 mines the form and direction of development. The 
 powers of perception are stimulated and made 
 more acute by employing them in discriminating 
 attention upon objects of sense. The exercise of 
 the imagination gives to this faculty alertness, 
 clearness, and scope. And we learn to think by 
 thinking — we become logicians by the exercise of 
 our logical powers. 
 
 While it is true that in the earliest years of our 
 life sense-knowledge predominates — and that it 
 was intended that sense-knowledge should at that 
 age predominate — yet incipient thinking soon 
 makes its appearance. The first step the child 
 takes in the world of thought is in the discovery 
 of relations existing among the material objects by 
 which he is surrounded. He notices resemblances 
 and differences, as we have before learned. Ob- 
 jects that closely resemble each other he associates 
 together, calling them by the same name. Objects 
 which do not resemble, that differ from each other, 
 he separates, and thus several classes are formed. 
 
 109 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 This process goes on continually, and in this man- 
 ner the external world is organized under class- 
 notions. 
 
 The child that gives attention most fully and 
 carefully to these relations, lays the best and larg- 
 est foundation for reasoning. To cultivate the 
 powers of thought the first principle to be enunci- 
 ated is this, "Be ever on the hunt for relations." 
 Be not content to apprehend individual objects 
 only, but gain the habit of tracing their relations. 
 Create the tendency to go out beyond the manifes- 
 tations of sense into the world of thought. 
 
 The operation of this principle is not confined 
 to childhood but should extend through the en- 
 tire life, in all fields of scholarship, in every pro- 
 fession, in every vocation, through all the domains 
 of mental activity. It is fundamental in the arts, 
 in politics, in statesmanship, in the proper reading 
 of history, in the understanding of science, in the 
 analysis of civilization. To stop with sight or 
 hearing, or any other sense, is to have a confused 
 jumble of objects. It is like gathering the brick, 
 leaving them scattered promiscuously about you — 
 not arranging them in the walls of a building. 
 Everything is relational. The leaf is nothing only 
 as it grows out of the twig ; the twig has no sig- 
 nificance unless attached to the branch ; and the 
 branch has no purpose only as seen m vital con- 
 nection with the tree. This great world in which 
 we live consists of parts, not dissevered, but joined 
 
 110 
 
TRAINING OF THOUGHT 
 
 in a unity of the whole, interdependent, so that no 
 portion of it can be understood out of relation with 
 the rest. 
 
 The first thing to be sought for in the domain 
 of thought is accurate and full knowledge of rela- 
 tions, in nature, in mind, in the industries, in the 
 professions, in the rights of persons and things. 
 Thought is constructive and is developed by dis- 
 criminating observation, by reflection, by every 
 effort made to solve the problems which come to 
 our attention. 
 
 The principle just enunciated applies to every 
 stage of thinking, to the comparing of concepts in 
 the formation of judgments, and the comparing of 
 judgments in consecutive argument. The direction 
 insisted upon, then, is this — give careful attention 
 to the processes of reasoning ; create the habit of 
 logical consecutiveness and dependence in thought 
 so that it will be natural to you ; with accuracy 
 seek to gain strong convictions of the reality and 
 value of truth in the conclusions reached, and 
 thinking will be a pleasure, and the powers of the 
 mind will become more mighty. 
 
 The principles we have presented have a bear- 
 ing on our intellectual life in whatever field they 
 are considered — in business, in student life, etc. 
 Reading or studying is often done in a very unprof- 
 itable way. The page is hurried over, the words 
 are perceived, possibly committed to memory, wdth 
 a very inadequate idea of their depth of meaning. 
 
 Ill 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 It is not enough to see and pronounce the words, 
 the attention should be held to each sentence until 
 it is fully comprehended. A lexicon should al- 
 ways be at hand to define words not fully under- 
 stood, and every proposition stated should be 
 dwelt upon till its meaning is taken up into the 
 mind. 
 
 It is the vice of the age that too many books are 
 read, that is, the reading is in a hurried, slipshod 
 way. Not only is less knowledge gained, but a 
 habit of being satisfied with a mere glance at the 
 meaning which the page contains will induce 
 superficiality in whatever is undertaken. Many 
 persons read too fast. There should be close and 
 exhaustive attention, and for this time is a neces- 
 sary element. Students going through college lose 
 half the benefit they should derive, because of the 
 hurried manner in which the work is done. The 
 benefit of exhaustive study is seen in cases like the 
 following, which we quote from Mahan's "Psychol- 
 ogy." After stating that "the judgment is devel- 
 oped and improved by means of a habit of careful 
 discrimination in respect to objects of thought, 
 noticing their points of resemblance and differ- 
 ence ; by the habit of careful classification and 
 generalization, and of the equally careful refer- 
 ence of facts to principles," he says : " One of the 
 most eminent mathematicians this country ever 
 produced, laid the foundation of his high attain- 
 ments by careful study of a single work — the 
 
 112 
 
TRAINmG OF THOUGHT 
 
 common arithmetic. Finding himself on his en- 
 trance into college uniformly deficient and behind 
 his class, especially in mathematics, he went back 
 and took up the treatise referred to and studied it, 
 until he had not only solved every problem pre- 
 sented, but fully comprehended every principle 
 and rule in the science as there treated, and 
 furthermore, the reasons and grounds of the valid- 
 ity of the rules and principles. The result was 
 that from that time onward no member of his 
 class, and no student in the institution could keep 
 in sight of him in any department of mathematics. 
 Such are the immutable conditions of attaining a 
 strong and well-balanced judgment, and no indi- 
 vidual who thus thinks and studies can fail to 
 attain this high power. Not a few students be- 
 come immutably disciplined in the science of non- 
 thinking by the careless, indiscriminating, and 
 incomprehensive study of many books." 
 
 There can be no objection on the moral side to 
 the reading of romance simply because it is 
 romance, and many books belonging to this class, 
 may well be studied for the improvement of style 
 of composition. But to read novels just for enter- 
 tainment during the hour, and not for knowledge 
 or personal improvement — doing no thinking — is 
 mentally relaxing, and novels are usually read in 
 this way. 
 
 To perform the work of classification, of com- 
 paring judgments — of reasoning — so as to make it 
 
 113 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 a habit, and as exhaustively as time and powers 
 will permit, must certainly discipline the faculty 
 of reasoning. The broader the scholarship the 
 more material thought will have to work upon. 
 Leading the life of a careful student contributes 
 to the resources on which powers of thought may 
 be employed, and if these powers are rightly 
 employed, there is a constant drill of the under- 
 standing. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXV 
 FOURTH FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 (first PRmCIPLES) 
 
 Some writers maintain that the three forms pre- 
 sented in the foregoing pages comprise the entire 
 field of knowledge. From this position, with 
 much confidence, we dissent. Knowledge is the 
 perception of truth based on grounds evident and 
 certain. There may be truth without the knowl- 
 edge of it — and beyond the possible knowledge of 
 it because of our limited powers. Certainly truth 
 of which man has been ignorant has existed 
 through all time. The only question we raise is 
 as to forms not embraced in presentation, repre- 
 sentation, and thought. We have conceptions 
 which are not the product of the mind's action in 
 
 114 
 
FOUETH FOEMS OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 either of these modes. Do these conceptions stand 
 for reality ? Are they the grasping by the mind 
 of that which is actual and certain? That to 
 which they relate is not perceived by the senses, 
 and therefore it cannot be reproduced as having 
 been made known by the senses. It is not a gen- 
 eralization of thought, it is not inference. If 
 neither of these, what is it? 
 
 That which is known by sense is phenomenal, 
 a manifestation through properties. Through im- 
 agination and memory we have found that that 
 only can be reproduced which had previously been 
 produced. Then reasoning takes the material 
 these supplied and works it up into classes and 
 systems through discovered relations, as we have 
 had occasion to say. It is by reasoning we prove 
 or demonstrate propositions laid down: It is 
 sometimes said that only that is known which is 
 demonstrated. Accepting this position nothing 
 could be known. You cannot build an argu- 
 ment without something to build on. You can- 
 not even start an argument without something 
 known to start with. Proof is possible only when 
 you have truth which does not need to be proven 
 as the basis of reasoning. There must be some- 
 thing perceived and known or there is nothing to 
 reason about. There must be premises accepted 
 as true before reasoning becomes possible. 
 
 We have seen that the first knowledge an indi- 
 vidual gains is in the apprehension of material 
 
 115 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 things by means of the senses. This is direct, and 
 all accept it as real. The impression made on the 
 mind by sight, hearing, touch, etc., is fundamental, 
 and the conviction of its reality is irresistible. 
 Every one in experience treats it as actual. It is 
 the undisputed foundation of business and social 
 relations. It is immediate, not mediate or proven. 
 Nothing can be proven, as we have just said, 
 without something known to prove with. 
 
 If there aro systems of truth there must be first 
 principles — necessary, universal ideas. Now can 
 such realities be found and known? Not by 
 reasoning, for a universal cannot, as has been said, 
 be a generalization — it cannot be an inference 
 from finite or limited premises. Universal ideas 
 cannot be found by logic ; that on which a system 
 rests cannot be the product of the system. It can- 
 not at the same time be both the foundation and 
 the capstone. Universal ideas are a priori, they 
 guarantee and verify the system, they do not flow 
 from it. They are metaphysical, not relational. 
 "We hold there are and must be ultimate realities 
 in the universe of being, or there could not be that 
 which is finite and dependent. Let us examine 
 this subject by specific discussion. 
 
 A certain class of philosophers tell us that we 
 have no knowledge of substance, only of proper- 
 ties or appearances — that for instance matter jper 
 se cannot be found. If there be material substance 
 we have no means of knowing it, they say ; that in 
 
 116 
 
FOUETH FOEMS OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 regard to this mind is necessarily agnostic. We 
 answer there cannot be properties unless there is 
 something as the basis of properties, that in find- 
 ing properties we find the substance. Properties 
 are the manifestations of substance, the substance 
 declaring itself. There cannot be properties float- 
 ing about unanchored, they exist only as inhering 
 in something. We say therefore that properties 
 imply substance — that material properties imply 
 material substances. The opposite of this is un- 
 thinkable. Nothing in knowledge can be more 
 positive. There is no chance for a mistake. To 
 say that we do not find the noumenon — the thing 
 per se — only the phenomena, is to utter an absurd- 
 ity, and there is nothing absurd in knowledge, " it 
 is the agreement of the content of our conceptions 
 with reality." It is impossible to construe in 
 thought baseless properties. The mind necessarily 
 repels as unreal foundationless properties. It is 
 by means of them we find substance, and still 
 further the nature of the substance. We penetrate 
 to the noumena by perceiving the phenomena. 
 Properties cannot exist without substance, and 
 that which is necessarily implied must be real. 
 
 It is equally certain that there is spirit sub- 
 stance. Thought, thinking, implies a thinker. 
 To say that there can be perception, memory, 
 reasoning, knowledge of any kind without a being 
 that perceives, remembers, and reasons is an un- 
 mitigated absurdity. Attributes or powers imply 
 
 117 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 substance possessing these attributes, and just to 
 the extent of our knowledge of the attributes. 
 
 This form of knowledge we call intuitional. 
 The reality is apprehended and known, not as an 
 inference, but directly. It is intuited, it is seen 
 at a glance, whenever the attention is called to it. 
 It is thus evident that we do not as a result of a 
 process find substance, or conclude there is sub- 
 stance ; our mental gaze reaches it at once as actual 
 and necessary. We may make mistakes in reasoning 
 from false premises, or be in error in tracing rela- 
 tions, but we cannot make a mistake as to that 
 which is necessarily implied. In this field there- 
 fore there is not only knowledge, but infallible 
 knowledge. It is a first principle. 
 
 Let us look at space, another intuition. We de- 
 fine matter as that which has extension, as that 
 which occupies space. If there be space, how do 
 we know it ? It is not substance, either material 
 or spiritual; it has no content of properties or 
 powers. It cannot be detected by any of our 
 senses. Neither is it a generalization or inference, 
 and if it exists as a reality it is not dependent on 
 any other reality. It has not been created, and it 
 cannot be put out of existence. It is and can be 
 only a condition of the existence of material 
 things. We say it is implied in the being of ma- 
 terial objects, objects possessing length, breadth, 
 and thickness. There could be no objects if there 
 was not space. Some writers teach that space is 
 
 118 
 
FOUKTH FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 a relation, that until matter appeared there was no 
 space, as it is, they say, but a relation of matter. 
 They state what is true when they affirm that there 
 could be no here or there were there no bodies. 
 These words and conceptions — here and there — do 
 express a relation of bodies, but that is place, and 
 place is quite a different thing from space. But 
 space is an antecedent condition of material 
 things— without which material things could not 
 have been — but place is only a relation of things 
 existing in space. Bodies have extension, so space 
 must have extension as occupied by bodies or a 
 necessary condition for extension. While it is in- 
 capable of exhaustive division because it is illimit- 
 able — not only interstellar but extrastellar — yet 
 there are relative distances of objects from each 
 other in space so that light and objects consume 
 time in traversing it. As such we know it with 
 absolute certainty — implied in the existence of 
 material things and their relations to each other. 
 
 Again, time is implied in succession of events. 
 Like space, it is not an object of knowledge to the 
 senses, or determined by reasoning, but is known 
 as a principle fundamental to experience. We do 
 not here use the term in the sense of limited dura- 
 tion in contrast with an unending future which is 
 called eternity, but as a condition for succession 
 for all finite beings in this life and in the future 
 state. Under a law of cause and effect one thing 
 precedes, another follows, and thus we gain the 
 
 119 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 notion of time, and of time as of longer or shorter 
 duration. Nothing can be more certain than the 
 reality of our knowledge as to time as well as to 
 space. A minute, an hour, a day, a year, a cen- 
 tury, conveys to us a meaning definite in charac- 
 ter, of which we have well defined and indisputa- 
 ble knowledge. We have gained this knowledge 
 through the successive moments which have 
 occurred in our lives, and the numberless events 
 which have made up the history of the world. 
 We have not seen time, but we have traced events 
 as they have successively transpired, and these 
 events have required time. That events could 
 transpire without time in which they transpire is 
 unthinkable. This whole sphere of reality is there- 
 fore both clear and absolute. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVI 
 
 FOURTH FORMS OF KNOWLEDGE— (Co7^«^7^wcc^) 
 
 (first principles) 
 
 Nothing originates without a cause. Now cau- 
 sality is not an object of sense ; it is a truth of the 
 reason, intuitively, immediately perceived. The 
 mistake must not be made that we intuitively per- 
 ceive what the particular cause of any and every 
 
 120 
 
FOUETH POEMS OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 event is ; that is not an implied truth, and may be 
 discovered by sense or inferred in reasoning. To 
 determine this we, in nature, appeal to science ; in 
 jurisprudence, to testimony ; in medicine, to inves- 
 tigation and experience ; in the traits of a nation 
 to sociology, etc. In intuitive knowledge of cau- 
 sality it is not the assigning of the operating force 
 but the perceiving and knowing there is and must 
 be cause whenever any event or change takes 
 place. The notion of causality springs up spon- 
 taneously, and as recognizing that which is neces- 
 sary in a world of change and phenomena. No 
 knowledge can be more certain than this, for it is 
 absolute. 
 
 This kind of knowledge is not the first we gain 
 in the order of time, but it is necessary for all 
 other forms of knowledge. We perceive change 
 before we get the notion of cause of the change, 
 and in order to get this notion of causality ; but 
 when our attention is called to it we realize there 
 could be no change without causality ; that without 
 space there could be no extended bodies ; without 
 time no events ; without substance no properties. 
 We find these metaphysical truths in connection 
 with, and as essential to, all that we know through 
 sense and reasoning. 
 
 In this kind of knowledge there is immediate 
 certainty. That which brings a storm on some 
 particular day, and of a particular violence, is 
 often but partially understood, if understood at 
 
 121 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 all ; but that there were forces in operation to pro- 
 duce the storm, and to make it just what it was, 
 is known as an indisputable truth, and with un- 
 clouded clearness. That the sun shines in the 
 heavens, that there is a substance giving off light, 
 we know, though there is much about this light- 
 giving sphere of which we are in profound igno- 
 rance. We know there cannot be redness without 
 a substance that is red ; that there cannot be a 
 bitter taste in the mouth without a cause of such 
 taste. 
 
 That there can be production without cause, 
 properties without substance, bodies without space, 
 and successive events without time, is unthinkable. 
 We say, unthinkable, not as Eant maintains, be- 
 cause of the limitation of our powers — a display of 
 our incapacity — but unthinkable as violating the 
 laws of knowledge, unthinkable because of the 
 nature of things. To say that two and two may 
 be five is unthinkable, not simply as mental inca- 
 pacity to grasp it as true — and that in some other 
 world where there is a higher order of intelligence, 
 it may be seen to be true, is to state an impossibility. 
 Two and two with every one makes four — not 
 five — because in the nature of things it must be 
 four ; even infinite power could not make it other 
 than four, for infinite power could not make the 
 absurd or impossible real. " Things that are equal 
 to the same thing are equal to each other." '' If 
 equals be added to equals the sums must be equal." 
 
 122 
 
FOUETH FOEMS OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 " A straight line is tlie shortest distance between 
 any two points." These are axioms and they are 
 self-evident, not because of the peculiar constitu- 
 tion of our minds, but because of the absoluteness 
 of the truths expressed, and being necessarily true 
 the mind sees them to be true. 
 
 There are then ultimate realities which we find 
 and know with unmistakable certainty. They are 
 what may be called metaphysical truths — not in- 
 ferred principles — but the basis of all contingent 
 realities, the philosophical groundwork of such 
 realities. They are not determined by reasoning, 
 but are essential to reasoning. They are logical 
 postulates, not logical conclusions; and without 
 them reasoning would start in mid-air and leave us 
 in mid-air. 
 
 Inferences in reasoning are largely probabilities 
 accepted as truths, the opposite of which is not 
 unthinkable though improbable. Laws rest on 
 the basis of invariable agreement. When unifor- 
 mities are observed they are suggestive of law, 
 and when such uniformities are unbroken through 
 a long series, they are regarded as establishing law. 
 In this way, by induction, the laws of nature are 
 determined. A single phenomenon never reveals 
 a law ; but it does not require a series of succes- 
 sive agreeing manifestations to establish the first 
 principles of which we have been speaking. A 
 single case is sufficient. It is not necessary that 
 a thousand apples shall be seen to fall to the 
 
 123 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 ground to know that cause is at work ; one apple 
 dropping from the tree is as conclusive of causality 
 as if all the apples in the orchard fell to the earth. 
 If a man is found dead by the wayside we know 
 there was a cause of death, but what the cause was 
 we may never discover. Science, not less than 
 the convictions of uneducated people, is based on 
 the fact and universal prevalence of cause in this 
 world of change. 
 
 Psychologically, that is, in the order of mental 
 action, the concrete is apprehended before the 
 abstract ; things before the principles on which 
 things are based ; the object before the explanation 
 of the object. And it is not held that intuitive 
 truths are clearly perceived by every one, but 
 that they are always perceived when the mind is 
 intelligently turned to them. He who is mentally 
 blind, or has his thoughts turned in the opposite 
 direction, could not be expected to have these 
 truths in his field of view. The knowledge of ulti- 
 mate realities is not innate — born with the mind 
 itself — but the powers by which such truths are di- 
 rectly apprehended are innate. When the favor- 
 able occasion arises they are not traced out and in- 
 ferred, but seen as a necessity in the world of being. 
 
 Not only does reason assert that every event 
 must have a cause, but that the cause must be ade- 
 quate to produce the event. Extensive results 
 can be brought into existence only by power in 
 which there is corresponding energy. 
 
 124 
 
FOUETH FOEMS OF KNOWLEDGE 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVII 
 
 FOUETH FOEMS OF KNOWliEJ)GtE'-(ConUnued) 
 
 (FIRST CAUSE) 
 
 The fourth forms of knowledge let us into a 
 wonderful field of reality. The senses, we find, 
 are restricted in their range of action. Our rea- 
 soning powers make mistakes without number, 
 and can never reach the broadest truths. Eealities 
 may be either too simple to be proven or too high 
 for any possible demonstration. 
 
 Can God be found ? His throne cannot be 
 reached by the ladder of thought. Pile all the 
 heavens together and they do not equal Him. 
 Take the universe as your major premise and it is 
 too small and too feeble to get the Infinite as a 
 logical sequence. But to say that the being of 
 God cannot be proven is not to affirm that He 
 cannot be found; is not to affirm that He can- 
 not be known with clear and absolute certainty — 
 a knowledge that satisfies the highest demands of 
 intelligence. 
 
 We find God as a necessity for nature, for all 
 dependent being. However expansive the uni- 
 verse may be it yet has its limits. Matter poss- 
 esses bounds, the orbit of each heavenly body has 
 
 125 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 definite extension, and the systems of worlds sweep 
 on within restricted circuits. The forces operat- 
 ing in nature are interdependent, no one thing has 
 supreme unlimited domination. The constitution 
 and movements of the universe have had a begin- 
 ning. The marvellous history of things as given 
 in the Bible begins with these words, " In the be- 
 ginning God created the heavens and the earth." 
 Nature, then, according to the scriptures, is a crea- 
 tion, and time as measured by us had its begin- 
 ning ; in other words the order to which we be- 
 long began with the creation of these worlds. And 
 science cannot be rationally interpreted without 
 admitting the truth of this Bible record.* 
 
 Nature is progressive, it has passed through suc- 
 cessive stages, each of which has had a beginning 
 and an end. Commencing Avith the present to 
 trace back through that which preceded, we find 
 ourselves in the midst of a period of vegetable and 
 animal life. This period had a beginning. There 
 was a time when there was no life, as now known, 
 on the earth. The crust of the earth was barren 
 rock, with bodies of water having more or less 
 definite boundaries, and above it all a dense 
 aqueous cloud through which the rays of the sun 
 could .not penetrate. At an earlier period still the 
 surface was a molten mass, the heat so intense 
 that rocks could not form, and back beyond this 
 that which constitutes the earth and all the stars 
 of the heavens was in a nebulous or gaseous state. 
 
 126 
 
POUETH POEMS OP KNOWLEDGE 
 
 These things science tells us. If the physical his- 
 tory of nature has been progressive, going forward 
 by steps or movements, passing from one stage 
 into another, it must have had a beginning. We 
 cannot divide the infinite into parts, there must be, 
 in that which is divisible, a starting-point. 
 
 But it has been suggested that the present order 
 of nature is only one of an indefinite number of 
 cycles ; that we do not find the beginning by go- 
 ing back to nebulous matter as the first in the 
 order to which we belong. Suppose this to be 
 true, a thousand cycles, a million cycles which 
 have run their course do not relieve the problem. 
 If there have been a million of cycles there must 
 have been the first cycle. You cannot have the 
 second of anything without there being a first ; no 
 more can you have the hundredth or millionth 
 without a first. Lengthening the chain does not 
 remove the necessity of a first link. And you can- 
 not make a chain of an infinite number of links. 
 There can be no such thing as an infinite regress 
 of finite causes. Make the series as long as we 
 may it must, in the nature of the case, have a be- 
 ginning. 
 
 We are then shut up to this in studying nature, 
 to throw up the problem as beyond solution or 
 postulate an Infinite uncaused Being as the Cre- 
 ator of it all. For a conditioned there must be an 
 unconditioned ; for a contingent there must be an 
 absolute; for finite nature a self -existent cause. 
 
 127 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 The opposite of this is unthinkable. He who does 
 not find God back of nature, and as the Author of 
 nature, not only does violence to the laws of 
 thought, but sets at naught that which is funda- 
 mental to the most elementary principles of philos- 
 ophy itself. A First Cause is implied in all sec- 
 ondary causes. Than this nothing is more evident. 
 It is a truth in metaphysics which cannot be ra- 
 tionally disregarded. 
 
 Another thought, Everything in nature points to 
 intelligence in the cause. The universe was not 
 blindly brought into existence. It answers all the 
 demands of our reasoning powers, and if it satisfies 
 reason it must itself be the embodiment of reason. 
 The manifestation of final cause is seen everywhere 
 in the material world. He is blind who does not 
 see a supernatural purpose in all things and oper- 
 ations that have made up the history of nature. 
 Law conserving our well-being prevails all about 
 us. Here we find an unlimited field of study for 
 the development of the intellect ; a theatre for the 
 operation of sociological forces ; an order of life 
 for the strengthening of moral purposes under per- 
 sonal responsibilities ; a condition of things call- 
 ing for the discharge of duties ; a world in which 
 humanity may be enriched by acts of kindness and 
 mercy, and a grand destiny wrought out in the 
 training of conscience and the ennobling of life. We 
 find the thought of the inventor in the adaptation 
 of the machine he has constructed to some specific 
 
 128 
 
FOUETH POEMS OP KNOWLEDGE 
 
 end. The teleology of the arts enables us to pene- 
 trate into the intellectual energies of the race. We 
 know what man has planned to do by scrutinizing 
 the forces he has put in operation. And we come 
 to the very life of the Author of nature by consid- 
 ering the realities and adjustments of these His 
 works. May we not say that in these creations, 
 as we study them, "we are thinking over after 
 Him the thoughts that the Architect of nature has 
 implanted in things." 
 
 As to some things we may be in doubt ; as to 
 His Being there can be no uncertainty. He is the 
 Infinite, the Absolute, the Unconditioned, the 
 Eternal, the First Cause. He is not unknowable, 
 yet He is the incomprehensible. We find Him, 
 but we cannot grasp Him. The infinite depths of 
 His being we cannot fathom, but reason declares 
 Him to be the creating life of all dependent real- 
 ity. And we reach the highest range of thought 
 in conceiving and knowing Him. We do and 
 must hang everything on the will of the infinitely 
 intelligent Creator. 
 
 129 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 CHAPTEE XXVIII 
 THE SCEPTRE OF THE HEART 
 
 The definition of man that he is a rational ani- 
 mal is incomplete. It is sufficiently discriminat- 
 ing when he is considered solely in regard to his 
 intellectual life, for in this, surely, there is a wide 
 difference between him and the general animal 
 kingdom. But it was intended that he should feel 
 as well as know, and he would occupy a much lower 
 position in the world of being than he now does, 
 were his powers restricted to the capability of 
 knowing. There has been a disposition to exalt 
 his intellectual nature far above the sensibilities, 
 making this the sole standard of rank. The word 
 human, however, is shorn of half its significance 
 when it excludes the heart. 
 
 Feeling is a mental state characterized as pleas- 
 urable or painful. It has special functions or 
 offices in the body. As hunger, thirst, and taste, 
 it impels to the supply of phj^sical wants, and in 
 the supply there is a feeling of satisfaction. The 
 appetites operate through impulses thus awakened. 
 In pain suffered there is warning of danger. But 
 it is not our purpose just here to discuss questions 
 relating specially to the body. 
 
 What we term experience is made up very largely 
 
 130 
 
THE SCEPTRE OP THE HEAET 
 
 of feelings. It begins in early childhood. When 
 but a few months old the infant manifests pleasure 
 or displeasure in its surroundings, in those things 
 which come in contact with its life. The smile 
 which pla3^s upon its face tells of happiness ; the 
 tears that flow speak of mental suffering. As the 
 weeks pass by it is attracted by the novelty of the 
 panorama of life. It soon comes to take an inter- 
 est in that which is within its reach. It is not 
 long before objects and experiences arrange them- 
 selves in two classes, the agreeable and the dis- 
 agreeable. From this time on the child is in the 
 midst of contending forces which give him joy and 
 sorrow. It is along this path he must travel, smil- 
 ing and weeping, till the end of his earthly pil- 
 grimage. 
 
 So close to us are the sources of joy and sorrow, 
 that we estimate life by the happiness or unhappi- 
 ness it brings. Indeed with most people the end 
 for which they plan and labor is happiness, or 
 perhaps pleasure, which is on a lower plane. Even 
 duty, nobility — often humanity — is kept at arm's 
 length, for anticipated happiness is made to occupy 
 the entire field. But this is true that it is either 
 sunshine or clouds, depending on the pleasant or 
 unpleasant experiences through which we pass. 
 
 Nothing binds us so closely together as the 
 feelings we share in common. The companionship 
 of spirit is the delight of social life. Not common 
 aims — for these sometimes make competition — but 
 
 131 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 common enjoyments cement our affections. Con- 
 versation flows smoothly, and the hours pass by all 
 too quickly when each is interested in the other. 
 The world is richer because of sympathy, and it is 
 impoverished to the extent of indifference. Love 
 unites, hatred severs. History is a heart problem. 
 The father willingly toils for those he loves, but 
 when the heart is cold the fireside is neglected. 
 When patriotism glows on the altar of a nation's 
 liberty, the country is shielded from the assaults 
 of the enemy. Ambition is more than a conviction 
 of the judgment, it is a longing for perceived good. 
 He strives for wealth whose heart is placed upon 
 it. Scholarship is sought under the inspiration of 
 desire, not simply from a correct interpretation or 
 apprehension of its abstract worth. 
 
 To make a grand success of life as the years roll 
 on, the individual must have sensibilities that are 
 acute and masterful. They must awaken the in- 
 tellect and lead it onward to mighty deeds. He 
 who rises to a lofty eminence in the work of bless- 
 ing the world, puts his heart in the lead in his 
 search for the good of humanity ; and he who 
 plunges into evil, wrecking his life and ruining 
 those who may follow, is led by the desires of his 
 heart for that which is base and destructive. The 
 church is the mightiest when she is in fullest sym- 
 pathy with Christ. When great thoughts are im- 
 passive, they are like lead which drops to the 
 earth ; but when set on fire they burn through all 
 
 132 
 
THE SCEPTEE OP THE HEAET 
 
 opposition. In business, in politics, in the pro- 
 fessions, the feelings hold the sceptre. A motive 
 for any activity of life does not reside in the object 
 which it is possible to obtain, nor in the simple 
 conception of its value, but in our emotional ap- 
 preciation of its value. All interests wait upon the 
 feelings, not a step is taken until inspired by the 
 feelings. We eagerly pursue that which attracts 
 by the promise of happiness ; we flee from that 
 which would cause us disquietude or pain. 
 
 Our attention has been called to man's high or- 
 der of intellectual being, and it is said that " it is 
 the mind that makes the man." But mind is more 
 than intellect. Powers are one thing, the use of 
 powers quite another. Intellectual energies must 
 be stimulated, and the stimulus does not reside in 
 these energies but is supplied by the sensibilities. 
 For progress in knowledge, discipline of faculties, 
 and accumulating power of achievement the heart 
 must supply inspiration. The world is to-day 
 what the heart has made it to be, and its future 
 history will be determined by the feelings which 
 sway the life of individuals and nations. 
 
 133 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 CHAPTEE XXIX 
 FEELINGS DISCRIMINATED 
 
 We have learned that sensations are feelings 
 originating in and through the body, and they 
 have been considered in connection with presenta- 
 tive knowledge. But there is another class of 
 feelings which take their rise in intellectual 
 states and are the results of knowledge — not the 
 medium of knowledge ; they are the impressions 
 made on the sensibilities by knowledge itself. 
 The roughness felt when the hand is passed over 
 a jagged surface is a sensation ; the sorrow pro- 
 duced by the tidings of the death of a friend is an 
 emotion. 
 
 Feelings which have a basis in intelligence — 
 which we are now to consider— are generally called 
 emotions, but these are sometimes subdivided, 
 and designated passions, emotions, and sentiments. 
 With this classification, emotions occupy the 
 middle ground, as medium in intensity, while 
 passions are violent emotions, emotions which 
 have passed beyond restraint, and sentiments are 
 emotions of a mild type. Passions are the whirl- 
 wind of feelings ; sentiments are a gentle breeze, 
 while emotions is a word which stands for the 
 general body of feelings, capable of passionate. 
 
 134 
 
FEELINGS DISCEIMINATED 
 
 excess, on the one hand, or a gentle flow on the 
 other. 
 
 A human being has an equipment of powers in 
 the domain of feeling, not less than in the domain 
 of knowing. On the sensibility side of his nature, 
 life is generally spoken of as passive —it does not 
 originate feeling, it is said, but is subject to it. It 
 is true that there are limitations to the functions of 
 the sensibilities ; they do not perform their work 
 alone. Without the action of the intellect there is 
 no joy, or sorrow ; these emotions come into exist- 
 ence only as the knowledge is gained of certain 
 conditions or facts. The intellect takes the lead. 
 But emotions do not flow into the mind, they are 
 produced by the mind. And they are not the 
 product of the intellect which is the organ of cog- 
 nition, nor of the will. The sole office of the will 
 is to choose and execute. There must be powers 
 which create feelings as they do not exist till the 
 mind performs its work of producing them. 
 
 Should we not stop and define feeling before 
 proceeding any farther ? It is not easy to give a 
 strict definition of feeling. A definition is idea- 
 tional, and we cannot put feeling into ideas and 
 make them the medium of its transmission to 
 others, as words embody and carry thoughts. 
 Feeling has a meaning to him who has experienced 
 it, and the best we can do is to awaken a con- 
 sciousness of such emotional experience. So pure- 
 ly personal is it, with nothing of the cognitive in 
 
 135 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 its nature, that we can only refer to it, we cannot 
 analyze its content with words. 
 
 And there are special difficulties in our way in 
 studying feeling. To do this successfully we need 
 carefully to examine it in all its grades. But when 
 we begin to do this the feeling, in a measure, 
 fades, our consciousness of it becomes dimmer ; for 
 cognition is called into action at the sacrifice of 
 the feeling we have begun to study — there is to 
 some extent a passing from feeling to thinking. 
 Feeling is in no degree ideational, though the sen- 
 sibilities and intellect may co-operate ; but just so 
 much of mental energy as is employed by the 
 intellect cannot at the same time be employed by 
 the sensibilities. The most that can be said of 
 feeling is that it is the class of our mental experi- 
 ences not included in cognitions and volitions ; it 
 is the residuum when these two forms are extracted 
 from all our possible mental experiences ; and it is 
 the " subjective side of any modification whatever 
 of consciousness." But though it will not in itself 
 admit of scientific definition its nature is under- 
 stood, and it is an object of intelligible discussion. 
 
 It is interesting to observe that not only can 
 feelings be discriminated by words, but they often 
 have physical manifestations. Embarrassment 
 causes the face to flush with blood, and fear drives 
 the blood from the face, giving it the paleness of 
 death. The countenance brightens as joy takes 
 possession of the soul ; and in it sorrow is depicted 
 
 136 
 
FEELINGS DISCEIMINATED 
 
 as the heart is sad. Tears trickle down the cheeks 
 and the facial muscles undergo a change when life 
 is overwhelmed with grief. Anger tells its tale in 
 the expression of the face, in the tone of the voice, 
 and sometimes in the violent use of the muscles in 
 personal assault. Excitement causes the heart to 
 beat more quickly, the blood to flow more rapidly, 
 and the breathing to be irregular. Fear quickens 
 muscular action so that the individual will hasten 
 to get out of danger ; but when fear becomes great 
 it may paralyze the physical powers and make us 
 helpless for personal escape or defence. Weari- 
 ness gives way when excitement takes hold upon 
 the nerves. The mother puts forth efforts for 
 which a strong man is scarcely equal, to rescue 
 her child from danger or death. Cases are fre- 
 quent of death from fright. Great excitement has 
 often stopped the beating of the heart. Some 
 sudden intelligence — good or bad — has completely 
 overcome vital action. Home-sickness may be- 
 come a positive and dangerous disease, termina- 
 ting in death. The insane, under intense excite- 
 ment, and unrestrained by a sense of right or 
 regard for legitimate results, will often concentrate 
 far more strength in the muscles for violent action 
 than can be done by the person of a sound mind 
 holding the feelings in check. The curl of the lip 
 portrays scorn ; the pouting of the lips, contempt ; 
 the heaving of the breast, agitation, and the smile, 
 gratification. The placid face shows a quiet spirit, 
 
 137 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 but when the heart is wrought into a fury the 
 inner struggle writes its story on the brow. He 
 who is angry finds it difficult to restrain the blow, 
 but love impels the hand to stretch forth in acts 
 of beneficence. Who can keep the features of the 
 face immoYable in the presence of a ludicrous 
 event ? At times laughter is irrepressible ; at 
 other times weeping cannot be restrained. Hope 
 prolongs life, despair shortens it. Thus it is seen 
 that feeling reveals itself through the physiologi- 
 cal phenomena and controls physiological activi- 
 ties. 
 
 On the obverse side of this subject it is im- 
 portant to understand the effect of the body on the 
 feelings. With a child in a state of health there 
 is a physical impulse to action. Boyhood is buoy- 
 ant, the nerves are thoroughly charged with vitality, 
 and from this comes forth an inclination toward 
 movement, and in the bodily action there is enjoy- 
 ment. This enjoyment is not found simply in the 
 products created, for in most cases nothing is con- 
 structed of value, but it is found in the doing it- 
 self. Disease depresses the spirits even when no 
 serious results are anticipated. A dyspeptic stom- 
 ache produces irritability. A sluggish liver makes 
 a man down-hearted. Alcohol in stimulating the 
 brain not only acts upon the reason but awakens 
 all sorts of emotions. The exercise in sport is 
 agreeable without taking into account the pleasure 
 of winning. Over-eating deadens the sensibilities. 
 
 138 
 
FEELINGS DISCEIMINATED 
 
 Indeed, physical habits hold our emotional nature 
 in their grasp. The appetites take hold upon the 
 soul and give a trend to its experiences. 
 
 While desires have an emotional element they 
 often sustain relations to the body. They may be 
 called craving feelings in contrast with affections 
 which are giving feelings, as some writers dis- 
 tinguish them. Desires reach over to an object, 
 their end being the drawing to one's self. When 
 the desires have their base in the physical being 
 they are called appetites. But desires may be 
 what is called mental — to satisfy the mental, as for 
 knowledge, moral good, etc. "Affection is inclina- 
 tion toward others, disposing us to impart from 
 our own resources what may influence them for 
 good or ill. Desires absorb, affections give out. 
 Desires invariably seek what is accounted a per- 
 sonal gain." But affections are of two classes, 
 designated benevolent and malevolent. Benevolent 
 affections are satisfied only by the impartation of 
 good; malevolent affections by the impartation 
 of evil. Friendship and love show forth the be- 
 nevolent, revenge the malevolent. Though con- 
 trasted with desires they partake, in part, of their 
 nature. He who has an affection for another de- 
 sires his good. Desires and affections are impulses 
 to action. In the economy of life they serve this 
 purpose. For the doing, impulses must exist to 
 originate action and make it continuous. 
 
 139 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 CHAPTEE XXX 
 
 EQUIPMENT OF FEELINGS 
 
 As feelings have a substantial basis in the 
 mental life, as they serve a variety of purposes 
 and indicate the special or general condition of 
 the mind, also entering into and revealing char- 
 acter, it is well to give them a somewhat careful 
 analysis. And especially is this desirable as they 
 more or less modify intellectual states and reveal 
 and perpetuate themselves in executive acts. Per- 
 haps as instructive a classification as can be made 
 is to consider them in their connection with the 
 special objects to which they relate, or in which 
 they manifest themselves. On this principle we 
 state the following classes : 
 
 1. Egoistic Emotions. 
 
 2. Altruistic Emotions. 
 
 3. Intellectual Emotions. 
 
 4. JEsthetic Emotions. 
 
 5. Moral Emotions. 
 
 Egoistic emotions have their end in self, in con- 
 nection with self-appreciation or personal desires, 
 ambitions, etc. — in business, in the pursuit of 
 scholarship, in the striving for position, in the love 
 of fame. On the better side they show themselves 
 in the satisfaction of duty performed ; in feelings 
 
 140 
 
EQUIPMENT OF FEELINGS 
 
 of esteem based on the recognition of a right 
 and worthy life ; in acts of unselfish benevolence. 
 Then there are unworthy egoistic emotions, such 
 as pride, vanity, love of approbation, jealousy, 
 emotions lying at the basis of haughtiness, of self- 
 conceit, of pride of place and a pride of life. 
 Situated as almost every human being is, depend- 
 ing on himself, it is natural, indeed, inevitable, 
 that there shall be emotions of a personal char- 
 acter, many of which, if not excessive, cannot be 
 condemned, and some of them are positively good. 
 It is God's plan that man shall be industrious and 
 create capital. The world needs capital for the 
 support of life, for human progress, for the work- 
 ing out of a grand destiny. To desire to accu- 
 mulate property is not in itself wrong, it is in 
 harmony with a divine purpose ; but to love money, 
 to possess a spirit selfishly to hoard it is base and 
 productive of harm. The appreciation of, and de- 
 sire for, an education that the life may be stronger, 
 that more of good may enter into our being is 
 surely not unworthy. It is largely through mental 
 culture and an extension of knowledge that the 
 race is to fulfil its mission. We can scarcely do a 
 better thing for a young man than to stir within 
 him a thirst for knowledge. To understand God's 
 universe; to see what good and evil history has 
 wrought out ; to become familiar with great themes 
 of thought; to be able to fathom the world in 
 which we live, is noble and desirable. But to be 
 
 141 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 vain over one's scholarship is to give an unfit ap- 
 preciation to one's life. To be gratij&ed by evi- 
 dences of public favor is not necessarily wrong. 
 The boy who says, " I don't care what people say 
 about me," is standing on dangerous ground; he is 
 likely to plunge into vice or squander his days in 
 ignoble pursuits. It was not intended that per- 
 sonal considerations should be excluded from our 
 lives, but that they should be lifted up above the 
 plane of selfishness which disregards the interests 
 of others. 
 
 Altruistic emotions are such as have their object 
 or end in others. That in much of our experience 
 these emotions should make their appearance 
 would naturally be expected from our social nature 
 and relations. We begin life in the family, amid 
 the varied interests, dependencies, duties, and en- 
 joyments of the home; we pass up through child- 
 hood and youth in association with the young; 
 manhood and womanhood bring responsibilities 
 and needs in a world of men and women. We are 
 not alone, we are never independent and without 
 duties to discharge. To attempt to live without 
 taking others into account would be to contract our 
 privileges and restrict our powers to our own great 
 harm, as well as in disregard of the rights of the 
 public. 
 
 There are many forms of altruistic feelings 
 which grow out of our community life. Love 
 starts in the home — of the parent for the child, 
 
 142 
 
EQUIPMENT OF FEELINGS 
 
 and the child for the parent — each interested in 
 the other, and ready to make sacrifices for the 
 other. Sympathy is a sharing in the feelings of 
 another, "rejoicing with them that rejoice, and 
 weeping with them that weep " — a delight felt in 
 their happiness or good fortune, and a partaking 
 of their sorrows. Pity is commiseration for an- 
 other in view of his weakness or misfortune. In- 
 dignation is a feeling aroused by the base, 
 unworthy, or perhaps cruel act of another. Ee- 
 venge is a spirit of retaliation which prompts the 
 doing of harm to the one who has wronged us, a 
 malignant wishing of evil. This is often excessive, 
 far beyond the measure of the offence. Altruistic 
 feelings may thus show a noble or base spirit 
 depending on the character of the end wished. 
 
 Intellectual emotions are not cognitions, but 
 emotions awakened by cognitions. There is a sat- 
 isfaction in every intellectual achievement. In 
 knowledge itself there is not only an understand- 
 ing of things, but a pleasurable state of mind in 
 the act of understanding, and a satisfaction which 
 knowledge produces having its type in the specific 
 character of the knowledge itself. To learn, to 
 intellectually master, is to triumph, and a feeling 
 of victory is always grateful. Truth is more to us 
 than a right conception, it brings delight. The 
 character of the pleasure experienced is deter- 
 mined, in its quality, by the character of the truth 
 reached. The solving of a problem in algebra 
 
 143 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 gives feelings of a different character and coloring 
 from the grasping of a problem in physical magni- 
 tudes. Conceptions of those things which are 
 vast and comprehensive carry with them feelings 
 of the sublime. In these statements we speak of 
 feelings which accompany and reside in the con- 
 ceptions, not which flow from reflections on the 
 purpose to which the knowledge may be put. The 
 pleasure in knowledge and intellectual activity 
 contributes an important element in mental work, 
 making it attractive, and supplying inspiration out 
 of which success is secured. 
 
 j^stlietic emotions spring from the perception of 
 the harmonies of things. In the domain of the 
 physical they are experienced in the views we get 
 in painting, in sculpture, in the beautiful land- 
 scape, etc. Then we speak of the beautiful in 
 character, which is a harmony of thought, of pur- 
 pose, of habits, a conformity to intellectual and 
 moral ideals. We are so constituted that the per- 
 ception of harmonies stirs agreeable emotions 
 which are sui generis, placid and restful. 
 
 Moral feelings belong to our moral nature. They 
 depend on moral considerations and the activity of 
 the moral powers. Sin, wrong-doing of any kind, 
 is accompanied by a feeling of demerit, not simply 
 a judgment of demerit. There is shame, remorse, 
 perhaps contrition, at least disquiet, in which 
 there is self-reproach, a feeling of debasement. 
 But with right acts there is a feeling — as well as a 
 
 144 
 
TRAINING OP THE FEELINGS 
 
 judgment— of rightness, emotions based on appro- 
 val of deeds done and which attach themselves to 
 such approval. The whole sphere of the emotions 
 of a righteous man differs radically from the feel- 
 ings experienced by a man of base thoughts and 
 degraded life. 
 
 Such is man in his emotional susceptibilities. 
 This discussion might be greatly extended if called 
 for by the purpose of this treatise, but enough has 
 been stated to show how important to each of us 
 is the life of the feelings as appearing in the varied 
 forms of actionof our emotional nature. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXI 
 
 CONTROL AND TRAINING OF THE FEELINGS 
 
 It is evident the feelings should not be in the 
 mastery. The sceptre cannot safely be put in 
 their hands. They render an important service in 
 a subordinate capacity ; it may be well at times to 
 listen to their voice, but not to put them on the 
 throne of power. And the feelings are not very 
 obedient subjects. They do not quickly respond 
 to the orders issued. They are responsive to con- 
 ditions, but are not directly swayed by commands. 
 We have said that the mind is active in feeling, 
 that in all emotional experience feeling appears as 
 
 145 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 a product of intellectual activity. Yet, fundament- 
 ally, feeling is the passive side of our nature. It 
 follows, it does not take the lead ; it is dependent 
 on other states. And while this is true it cannot 
 be summoned into existence nor directly put out 
 of existence. The will cannot arouse hate or love ; 
 it cannot call forth feelings of beauty or sublimity ; 
 it cannot stir within us symipathy or pity, hope or 
 despair. The emotional life must be reached and 
 governed through other channels of our nature. 
 
 Our feeling is along the lines of our thinking. 
 There can be no feelings as to those things of 
 which we have no knowledge, nor to which the at- 
 tention is not turned. The intellect leads, it opens 
 to us a domain for feeling. The feelings of the 
 scholar are unlike those of the illiterate man ; those 
 of the lawyer unlike those of the physician ; of the 
 aged unlike those of the youth. He who has fixed 
 his eye on Congress and thinks of nothing else 
 than the means to be employed to realize his am- 
 bition, leads emotionally a life widely in contrast 
 with that of the man who toils from morning till 
 night for the sole purpose of getting bread for his 
 family. 
 
 To change the trend of our emotions we must 
 change the trend of our thoughts. He who enters 
 into a new world of intellectual activity, finds a 
 new world for the feelings. It will be impossible 
 to keep the stains of pollution from the soul of that 
 boy unless you can change his reading from the 
 
 146 
 
TEAmiNG OF THE PEELINGS 
 
 foul novels he is devouring, or cause his imagina- 
 tion to be fed from other scenes than those sup- 
 plied by the ribald song to which he is listening. 
 The imagery of the intellect determines the emo- 
 tional life. While therefore we cannot directly 
 summon up feelings of any class, we can bring 
 them into existence by the action of the intellect- 
 ual powers. 
 
 In this is involved also the exercise of the will. 
 The will can control the feelings through the intel- 
 lect. The intellect has ears by which it can hear 
 the order the will issues, but the feelings are deaf. 
 Emotions know nothing about attention, the intel- 
 lect only can take cognizance of any reality. By 
 changing the attention, by turning the mental gaze 
 from one class of objects to another, the feelings 
 the former had awakened fade away, giving place 
 to that which is appropriate to the new mental 
 condition. Thus the feelings do not come and go 
 without our power to control them. For them 
 there is a personal responsibility. Contamination 
 is in the heart, but it enters through the intellect 
 which is so largely subject to the will. The child 
 gets a right start when the home is pure ; when 
 wholesome reading is brought into the family 
 circle ; when school associations are moral ; when 
 his steps are not turned toward vile haunts and 
 his education is not gained on the street. For a 
 clean, upright life, right associations are almost 
 omnipotent. 
 
 147 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 While the nature of the emotions depends on 
 the kind of subjects which engage our attention, 
 these emotions may be made to be more or less 
 pervasive and intense. We may surrender our- 
 selves to them, stimulate them, and make them 
 practically our guide; or we may hold them in 
 check. There is such a thing as emotional habits 
 produced by constant emotional indulgence or 
 supremacy. " The rolling of sin as a sweet morse] 
 under the tongue," produces a permanency of sin- 
 ful delight. Character has three constituent ele- 
 ments — principles, modes of life, and spirit of life. 
 The principles are the intellectual foundation, and 
 the mode of life gives rise to the spirit of the life ; 
 and when this is continuously in one direction it 
 becomes nearly irresistible. That which is needed 
 is that a habit of right emotional living shall be- 
 come firmly established — to love that which is 
 pure, to hate that which is evil ; to rejoice in the 
 good fortune of others; to sympathize with the 
 aflflicted ; to delight in the triumph of right ; to be 
 gratified when virtue is in the ascendant. This is 
 gained by the exercise of these emotions in con- 
 nection with correct views to stimulate correspond- 
 ing feelings. 
 
 Eepetition in the domain of feeling is as potent 
 as in the domain of thought. We may cultivate 
 that which is the better, and repress, by discard- 
 ing, that which is the worse. Moral stability is 
 not purely of principle ; in it there is a habit of 
 
 148 
 
TEAINING OF THE FEELINGS 
 
 riglit feeling, the kind of emotions that are allowed 
 to come regularly into the life. There is less dan- 
 ger of religions deflection in mature years than 
 in youth if there has been a consistent religious 
 experience, because of established habits of feeling 
 as well as of thinking. 
 
 He who is wise does not allow his thoughts to 
 carry him into dangerous fields of enjoyment, but 
 stimulates an emotional interest in that which is 
 pure and noble. The feelings are the " open ses- 
 ame" into the great world of activity, whether 
 good or eyil. To lead a boy to enter a life of 
 scholarship you must interest him in the themes 
 of study. To touch the spring of industries you 
 must interest the heart. To secure obedient ser- 
 vice to the Supreme Being, the feelings must be 
 aroused. The engine that propels the life along 
 the road of virtue or vice, toward that which is 
 noble or base, is fired by the feelings. Intellect 
 does her work as the emotions arouse these powers, 
 and the will issues her commands as the feelings 
 prompt. The leverage in all movements is the 
 emotions. 
 
 To educate the feelings we must employ them, 
 we must guide them into right channels ; we must, 
 through the intellect, keep them in harmony with a 
 correct judgment, with inspiring views, and noble 
 aims. 
 
 149 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXII 
 INVOLUNTARY ACTIVITIES 
 
 To will is to put forth some deliberative act 
 with an end in view. As preliminary to the dis- 
 cussion of this power and function of mind it is well 
 to look at some primary forces of life. All beings 
 in the animal world come into existence with a 
 tendency toward action. There are what are 
 called impulses which " are activities which arise 
 from some feelings of want." They are not forced 
 into existence by something which is external, 
 like sensations which come as a result of outward 
 impressions on the nerves, but they spring up 
 with the life from some need. They are funda- 
 mental psychical states — not developed conditions. 
 They are the primary activities of life, inner motor 
 forces or promptings, as, for instance, for individ- 
 ual defence, for seeking nutrition, for muscular 
 action, for perception of surrounding objects, for 
 imitation of others, etc. They are initiating en- 
 ergies in the animal system. 
 
 Instinct, though impulsive, is something more 
 than impulse ; it is not a random doing but a do- 
 ing in which there is a ^^ purposeful and seemingly 
 intelligent character of resulting movements." It 
 is a capability of producing definite and uniform 
 
 150 
 
INVOLUNTAEY ACTIVITIES 
 
 results which serve some special purpose. It ac- 
 complishes what, in a rational being we would 
 call the work of, or creation by, ideas, and which 
 would require consummate skill to execute. We 
 do not suppose the honey-bee knows anything 
 about the principles of geometry, yet the cells he 
 constructs as a receptacle for the honey are of the 
 only form to give the greatest strength with econ- 
 omy of space. The honey-comb is a marvel of prac- 
 tical engineering. Such cells are what the honey- 
 bee needs, and just these works he instinctively 
 produces, and nothing foreign thereto. Gathering 
 honey he thus stores it away for future use, and 
 this without any preparatory training. All of the 
 same species of birds build their nests on the same 
 plan and in corresponding positions, in which 
 their wants are best subserved ; the young, with- 
 out experience, executing the work with no less 
 skill than their parents. The beaver knows when, 
 where, and how to build his dam, and never makes 
 a mistake. 
 
 Now, instinct is not a knowledge of principles in 
 science, philosophy, or the arts ; it is not intelli- 
 gence as to the use of the works constructed or the 
 reason for the special mode employed ; there is 
 not in it a solution of the problem, why ? but simply 
 a feeling, or impelling force, to do what is done. 
 There is *' a purpose without foresight of end." In- 
 stinct is blind action toward some end. When we 
 say instinct is blind we mean that the animal does 
 
 151 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 not have an intelligent purpose in performing the 
 act to accomplish an end perceived to be desir- 
 able. Yet there is an intelligent purpose, but it 
 is in the Divine plan, and the animal conforms to 
 the plan without knowing anything about it. The 
 purpose is definite and the ends wrought out 
 certain, but the animal is only a machine working 
 to the end simply under organic feeling, not by the 
 light of intelligence. 
 
 Instinct has relation to species. One species has 
 one form of instinct, another some other form, 
 evidently adapted to its special needs. This is a 
 beneficent provision of Providence. And as the 
 care for the young is limited, the instinct is not 
 developed by experience or culture, but is in full 
 force at birth. The period of life of a large part 
 of the animal kingdom is brief as compared with 
 that of the human being, and therefore it could 
 not wait for special training to prepare for gain- 
 ing a livelihood ; hence it receives at first a full 
 equipment of powers to do its work. Also in the 
 nature of instinct we see that only a limited prog- 
 ress in knowledge is possible. Civilization is a 
 word that can never be applied to the general 
 animal world. 
 
 Intelligence is in the inverse ratio of instinct. 
 Man has much less need of instinct than the ani- 
 mal. He has been provided with only low forms 
 of it because in the high sphere he is capable of 
 reaching he will not need it, and it would operate 
 
 152 
 
INVOLUNTAEY ACTIVITIES 
 
 as a drawback. Could he gain skill without study 
 ignorance would everywhere prevail, and indolence 
 would secure a perpetual degradation of life. No 
 being can be great without making himself great. 
 He is therefore forced to depend on his own re- 
 sources so that there may be a continuous develop- 
 ment of his powers. 
 
 But man is not wholly a being of will; not 
 all his activities, as we have found, are put forth 
 and guided by choice. In his physical nature he 
 is largely subject to that which is involuntary. 
 Life would be impossible were not the action of 
 the heart involuntary, and did not the breathing 
 go forward without thought or supervision. Every- 
 thing is arranged for the digestion of food, proper 
 assimilation of nutrition and the rejection of that 
 which would be hurtful, and all this beyond our 
 dictation or observation. There would be great 
 personal danger in trusting entirely to our judg- 
 ment in partaking of food, so that the system 
 makes its demand through implanted and awak- 
 ened appetites. Were it necessary consciously to 
 direct every step we take in walking we could do 
 nothing else. This may be said to be semi-in- 
 stinctive, a uniform tendency through acquired 
 habit. Physical training developed the capability 
 of walking which settled down into a habit regu- 
 lating the gait. This holds true in most lines of 
 action, as in penmanship, the playing on musical 
 instruments, and the mechanical skill of the ar- 
 
 153 
 
MAN-BUILDIKG 
 
 tisan. Developed mental tendencies may be put 
 in the same class. The will does not take minute 
 — only general — supervision. Movements become 
 largely automatic. 
 
 However great the possibility of our mental 
 life ; however far-reaching the ends for which we 
 labor; however comprehensive the plans formed 
 and lofty our aims, in that which is immediate, in 
 the labor of the successive hours the involuntary 
 provides what is necessary to the steady, safe, and 
 effective movements of the life. Impulses and in- 
 stincts reach back into the domain of feeling, on 
 the one hand, and, on the other, to the sphere of 
 the will, the higher form of purposeful and intelli- 
 gent life. They thus fill a very important place in 
 our being. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIII 
 
 WILL DEFINED 
 
 " Will is the power of choice." 
 *' Will is the power of alternate choice." 
 " Will is the power of self-determination." 
 These definitions vary in phraseology, but are 
 one in meaning. In the power of choice there is 
 necessarily alternation. There cannot be choice 
 when there is only one possible course to pursue. 
 To do under constraint is not to choose, but to be 
 
 154 
 
NATUEE OF WILL 
 
 forced. To say, therefore, that will is the power 
 of choice, is to say that it is the power of alternate 
 choice. In putting forth a choice the power of 
 control does not extend beyond one's self ; it has 
 nothing directly to do with the capability of act- 
 ing on others. In some cases such action may fol- 
 low, but to determine to act on others, and then to 
 put forth the effort to act on them, are quite dis- 
 tinct. Such action may be the outcome, but this 
 is not a part of the original determination. Often 
 after the choice is made, there may be inability to 
 execute the choice. 
 
 To call will the power of self-determination is to 
 assert the ability of personal control, the ability to 
 originate personal acts and regulate our own lives. 
 It is saying that we are not the sport of that which 
 is external to ourselves ; and it is also putting will 
 at the head of our mental powers with an explicit 
 office to direct the intellect in its thinking and to 
 control the life, whatever may be the feelings ex- 
 perienced. Conceptions, good or bad, do not hold 
 us in their grasp ; and it is not the office of emo- 
 tions to sweep us onward without any power of re- 
 sistance, as the block of wood is carried forward by 
 the flowing stream. There is a power within us, 
 which is not that of cognition or of feeling, that 
 directs us in our movements. This is what we 
 mean when we say that the will — not any other 
 faculty — is the power of self-determination, the 
 determining energy of self. The mind is capable 
 
 155 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 of self-mastery ; this is will or personal govern- 
 ment. As Calderwood says, " The name will is 
 used to indicate a directing, determining, or gov- 
 erning power belonging to intelligent life — a con- 
 trol over the varied activities within consciousness. 
 "Whatever may be the influence of will over our 
 own organism, or more widely still, out upon the 
 field of external relations and activities, the philos- 
 ophy of control is concerned with the activities 
 belonging to the inner life of the rational agent." 
 
 Whedon's definition of will that " it is the power 
 of the soul by which it is the conscious author of 
 an intentional act " is both broad in its sweep, and 
 restricted to its direct office and work. It recog- 
 nizes the intellect — in consciousness and intention 
 — and makes will the regnant power of the soul. 
 The will cannot act when the mind is in a state of 
 unconsciousness ; and it cannot act unless the 
 mind sees some desirable or needed end to be 
 reached. It does not act without a reason, and it 
 cannot have a purpose without intelligence. 
 
 Writers have sometimes merged will and desire 
 into one mental act, with only this distinction, that 
 will is predominating desires, called will when the 
 desires issue in acts. But to issue in acts some- 
 thing more than a craving is needed. There must 
 be a command, a determination, an executive deci- 
 sion which in itself is unlike the feeling of craving, 
 though naturally following it. But the will may 
 even decide against the desires under some coun- 
 
 156 
 
NATUEE OF WILL 
 
 teracting feeling, such as prudence, a sense of 
 right, a conviction of duty. As, for instance, a 
 person may have an intense desire to visit the 
 home of his childhood, even appointing the time 
 for his departure ; but finding it will work harm to 
 some friend, he at last abandons the contemplated 
 journey with feelings of great disappointment. It 
 is often a bitter trial to decide against our inclina- 
 tions, yet it is frequently done. The path of duty 
 is often travelled with much of sorrow and many 
 sacrifices, with the crucifying of desires. Desires 
 solicit the will, but they do not always secure its 
 decisions. Other feelings arise which, though less 
 clamorous, make a more righteous showing, and win 
 in the contest. In cases without number desires 
 are made to yield, not simply by external force, 
 but to voluntary choice. It is the safeguard of the 
 individual and society that the will is something 
 more than desires, that we can and do rise above 
 personal preferences, curbing appetite, restraining 
 longings, acting according to reason under princi- 
 ples of right and for the well-being of others. 
 
 We must not be understood as saying that will 
 is independent of feeling, that it puts forth voli- 
 tions in disregard of feeling and in its absence, but 
 that it chooses the interests with reference to 
 which it will issue its orders. There are impulses 
 almost infinite in kind and number which belong 
 to our experience, and the will makes a decision as 
 to which shall be regarded. By none of these im- 
 
 157 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 pulses are we driven. Life is constructed on the 
 plan that among them and over them all the will 
 shall sway the sceptre of authority. 
 
 We must again caution the young reader against 
 the fallacy of supposing the soul to be in any sense 
 or degree divided into parts when he sees the 
 words intellect, sensibilities, and will. The soul 
 itself, we have before said, is an absolute unit cap- 
 able of three different kinds of action — of knowing, 
 feeling, and willing. These activities may be em- 
 ployed successively or co-ordinately. The mind 
 that sees also feels and wills, and at any moment 
 it may will because of its feelings and in regard to 
 that which it knows. Neither one of these activ- 
 ities is ever wholly in a state of isolation. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXIV 
 
 DEPENDENCE OF WILL 
 
 In the general division of mental powers we al- 
 ways give will the third place. In their enumera- 
 tion we begin with intellect, follow this with sen- 
 sibilities, and mention will the last. This is not 
 accidental or arbitrary, but indicates a relation. 
 We must know in order to feel, and feeling pre- 
 cedes willing. By virtue of powers of perception 
 and discrimination we gain knowledge ; the knowl- 
 
 158 
 
DEPENDENCE OF WILL 
 
 edge acquired awakens the sensibilities, pleasantly 
 or unpleasantly affecting us, creating desires, aver- 
 sions, or other forms of feeling ; and under a con- 
 sciousness of ability to secure good or escape 
 apprehended evil a resolution is formed on the 
 basis of such intelligence and the emotions that 
 are aroused. 
 
 Mental action cannot begin with volitions. We 
 cannot will until there is something before the 
 mind to will about. There may be impulsive ac- 
 tivities of the life, but not choosing. To choose 
 we must apprehend realities and perceive values. 
 In the order of appearing, volitions are a sequence 
 to knowledge, that is, knowledge must go before. 
 Thus there must be a world of reality discovered 
 by the mind as a prerequisite to the action of the 
 will. When therefore we speak of the independ- 
 ence or freedom of the will, as we sometimes ex- 
 press it, we do not mean that it is out of relation 
 with everything else; we do not mean that its 
 office is initiative in an ultimate sense, that it 
 needs nothing precedent in order to perform its 
 work. It must have something to act upon, an 
 equipment of knowledge or nothing can be done. 
 
 In ordaining life the Supreme Being has put us 
 in the midst of innumerable objects which make 
 up the material world; surrounded us with laws 
 and forces to which we are subject; established 
 relations between us and other human beings, as 
 well as nature within which we dwell. We are 
 
 159 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 never outside of these relations, and we cannot get 
 away from them if we would. Whatever volitions 
 are put forth are confined within this sphere of be- 
 ing ; the will cannot transcend these limits. This 
 is the first limitation. The second, more restricted, 
 limitation is the scope of actual knowledge, or in- 
 tellectual discerning, within this broad sphere. 
 That of which we have no knowledge cannot be an 
 object of will. The third limitation is found at 
 the established boundary of our powers. If the 
 object be out of our reach, if it cannot be obtained, 
 it is beyond the sphere of our volitions. "We can- 
 not will the impossible. No one goes seriously to 
 work on an air-castle. The child when he comes 
 actually to know that the moon is more than two 
 hundred thousand miles away does not attempt to 
 grasp it with his hands. A man may will to en- 
 deavor to become president of the United States, 
 but he cannot will — even after he has received the 
 nomination — to be president. He may secure the 
 coveted position as the result of his purpose to 
 employ every possible means to obtain it. No one 
 can will not to die, but he can will to resist the ap- 
 proach of death, and thus perhaps prolong his life. 
 The fourth limitation is found in needed excitation 
 of the sensibilities. Knowledge which leaves the 
 mind in a state of complete indifference provides 
 no occasion for will action. If that which is seen 
 has no significance for us or for others — not an ob- 
 ject of desire or aversion, not conceived of as a 
 
 160 
 
DEPENDENCE OF WILL 
 
 benefit or harm to us — the will is not solicited, 
 there is no reason for its action. 
 
 The fifth limitation appears in the nature of the 
 will itself. It does not directly achieve results, 
 but calls other powers into action for such achieve- 
 ment. It cannot create scholarship, but it can set 
 the intellect at work to gain it. It cannot lift a 
 weight from the ground, but it can stimulate the 
 muscles to perform the needed task. It is true it 
 sits on the throne and the other faculties of the 
 mind are its subjects. It is its office to issue com- 
 mands, and obedience follows. Yet its monarchy 
 is not absolute but limited. It cannot frame de- 
 crees without the aid of the intellect. It does not 
 possess wisdom in itself. It turns to the faculty of 
 cognition for enlightenment and to the sensibilities 
 for solicitation or incitement, as a preparation for 
 its work. It is a dependent ruler. It has ministers 
 of state with which it cannot dispense. Should 
 the intellect withdraw its teachings and the sensi- 
 bilities become deadened the will would be power- 
 less, its kingdom would perish. 
 
 He who says that he never changes, that the 
 volitions of yesterday answer for to-day, proclaims 
 his folly. If intelligence were a fixed quantity as 
 a result of omniscience, then volitions might be in- 
 fallible. But the most learned are relatively igno- 
 rant, and progressive intelligence should furnish 
 ample reason — in more enlightened views — for 
 new and more rational volitions. 
 
 161 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXV 
 
 MOTIVES 
 
 Motive is a word of Latin origin (movere, to 
 move). In the domain of human activity we use 
 the term to express the cause of, or reason for, a 
 voluntary act. As we grow up from infancy to 
 years of observation and knowledge, we find our- 
 selves surrounded by objects varying in their nat- 
 ure, possessing unlike qualities, adapted to differ- 
 ent interests of our being, or capable of doing us 
 harm in a variety of ways. We find also that 
 what we need most has not been prepared for our 
 use, and can be gained only by personal effort. It 
 soon becomes apparent that the field of effort does 
 not belong to us alone, that there is a strife of 
 competition which limits our opportunities, calling 
 for the exercise of thoughtfulness and wisdom in 
 our movements. In an important sense we make 
 the world in which we live. That which is most 
 valuable we do not inherit; it cannot be be- 
 queathed to us, it must be wrought out by us. 
 The widest distinctions in the lives of different in- 
 dividuals are not forced upon them, they are not 
 the result of conditions beyond their control, but 
 of the course they choose to pursue. 
 
 Among the many things it is possible to do- 
 
 162 
 
MOTIVES 
 
 which shall be done ? A selection must be made. 
 One form of good may be secured by taking one 
 course, some other form by taking another course. 
 If it be the desire to make money, how can the end 
 most certainly be reached, by entering what line 
 of business, by adopting what method in business? 
 A thousand questions demand an answer. Life is 
 an intellectual inquisition — what, how, when, to 
 what extent, etc? This inquisitional movement 
 runs through all business, the professions, educa- 
 tion, politics, social life, ethics, and religious in- 
 terests and obligations. And the outcome depends 
 on the motives by which we are influenced, to 
 which we yield. 
 
 A motive is a perceived appreciated good, the 
 end for which a thing is done. It is that which 
 we have in view in performing any act, the reason 
 for the doing, that which leads to the choice made. 
 When there is no motive, there can be no choice. 
 In the absence of an end, or when there is an utter 
 ' indiflference to the end, the mind is not led to put 
 forth any action. In a motive there is both an in- 
 tellectual and emotional element. But by affirm- 
 ing an emotional element we do not mean that the 
 sensibilities must be greatly agitated; they are 
 impressed sometimes in the direction of prudence, 
 or right, or duty, or of well-wishing for others, but 
 not necessarily strongly excited. It is the nature 
 of all knowledge to be accompanied by some form 
 of feeling, though it may be so placid as almost to 
 
 163 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 escape notice. That which is desirable or worthy 
 not only secures a favorable judgment but a favor- 
 able feeling also. 
 
 What is the exact relation of motives to the 
 will ? We have said there can be no choice with- 
 out a motive, and that the choice must be in the 
 direction of some motive. But motives are often 
 antagonistic, they stand opposite to each other — 
 to do this or the reverse of this, to do this or not to 
 do it. There are always before us opposing or di- 
 verging motives. Some writers tell us that in the 
 midst of the conflict the will is governed by the 
 strongest motive. Is this anything more than say- 
 ing that the motive that prevails is the motive that 
 does prevail ? That of course would be tautology 
 and could not be disputed. Or is it meant that 
 motives govern the will, that the motive which 
 prevails does prevail because in itself it is stronger 
 than any other motive, and hence the will is over- 
 borne by it ? In other words, that the will is not 
 free, and is swayed by motives according to their 
 strength, not its strength or choice? This last 
 position we cannot accept. The motive is the oc- 
 casion of the volitions put forth, a reason for the 
 mind choosing to put forth such volitions, but not 
 a compelling force. The power is in the will, not 
 in the motive. The motive solicits, the will ac- 
 cepts or rejects the solicitation. 
 
 That the power is in the will is evident when it 
 is noted that the will can make or modify motives, 
 
 1G4 
 
MOTIVES 
 
 causing them to be more or less prominent, more 
 or less attractive, more or less weighty. The mind 
 can turn the attention on a motive, study it, unfold 
 its value, increase its significance, and, in doing 
 this, neglect the opposite, which thereby fades 
 from view, diminishes in its influence, losing much 
 of its soliciting power. We exalt the one, we de- 
 press the other. Now this we are constantly 
 doing. We say, " I will look into this thing. It 
 seems to have decided merit, but my opinion may 
 change on closer examination." 
 
 In everything relating to the operation of the 
 mind we appeal to consciousness. In conscious- 
 ness we perceive what the mind is doing, and the 
 causes which operate. We discover whether the 
 act is the result of a choice or the consequence of 
 a force applied ; whether we really follow an in- 
 vitation or are driven. And there is a universal 
 conviction of freedom in the movement of our 
 lives. If the will is not free we take credit to 
 ourselves when we should not, and condemn our- 
 selves without reason ; there can be no ground 
 for praise or blame, there is no such thing as merit 
 or demerit, right or wrong, virtue or vice. The 
 whole attitude of the public toward the supposed 
 character of deeds done would thus be based on a 
 radical misconception of their import. Jurispru- 
 dence proceeds on the supposition and belief that 
 the will is free. Governments everywhere recog- 
 nize this, and rewards and punishments would be 
 
 165 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 worse than a senseless play if this were not so. 
 This, then, is the conclusion we reach from the 
 study of the mind — in the light of consciousness — 
 that the motive solicits, it does not force ; it makes 
 a bid, it does not issue a command. And we may 
 add that we are wise or unwise, according to the 
 class of motives to which we listen and whose 
 solicitations we regard. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXVI 
 VOLITIONS AEE CAUSED 
 
 In affirming that will is self-active, do we exclude 
 cause ? In saying that knowledge does not create 
 choice; that motives, compounded of intellectual 
 and emotional elements, do not bring resolutions 
 into existence ; in saying that desires or any other 
 form of feeling do not compel will-action, are we 
 putting the will outside of the field of causality ? 
 
 The stone lies unchanged in its position on the 
 ground till some force is applied for its removal. 
 This applied force is a cause of the change. The 
 ball would never leave the cannon's mouth without 
 a cause acting upon it. The attraction of the sun is 
 a cause constantly in action producing the curved 
 orbit of the planets, without which their move- 
 ments would be in a straight line through space. 
 
 166 
 
VOLITIONS CAUSED 
 
 The rain falls to the ground because it is made to 
 fall. The air and moisture and warmth of the 
 sun's rays are the operating cause of the putting 
 forth of vegetation in the spring of the year. 
 Everyone knows that the steam-engine, the tele- 
 phone, the automobile, and the entire world of 
 mechanical arts have come into existence because 
 they have been brought into existence. 
 
 But not in the same way, by the application of 
 force, has the will been made to originate volitions. 
 There is nothing back of it, outside of it, and for- 
 eign to it, that has compelled its action. What it 
 does it does itself, and from within itself, by a 
 power it possesses to bring acts into existence. 
 Its work springs from its own energy. Yet we 
 lay down the proposition that though the will be 
 free, all its volitions are caused ; that in the realm 
 of mind, not less than in the realm of nature, there 
 cannot be anything new — any change — without a 
 cause. 
 
 But it must be noted that we do not always use 
 the word cause in the same sense. Writers speak 
 of ^* efficient cause," "final cause," and ^'formal 
 cause." By " efficient cause " we mean the agency 
 or force by which a change is produced. The 
 illustrations already given belong to this class. 
 The forces operating all through nature — in the 
 changing of the seasons, in the flow of water along 
 the river's bed, in the growth of vegetation, in all 
 the phenomena of the physical world, are mani- 
 
 107 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 f estations of efficient cause. But '' final cause " is 
 quite distinct from this ; it is the purpose, the end 
 for which an act is performed. It must not be 
 confounded with the means employed to reach an 
 end, but it is the end itself, the purpose preceding 
 the employment of means, and which leads to the 
 employment of means. This is the initial and 
 inciting cause in a rational life. Our acts are not 
 forced into existence by some power we cannot 
 resist, but are put forth because of some good, 
 some desirable end to be obtained. It is the an- 
 swer to this interrogatory word, ivliy. Why does 
 the farmer summer-fallow his field ? The reason 
 for it is the final cause. Why does he prac- 
 tise rotation of crops? — The final cause? Why 
 does the young man go through college? — The 
 final cause ? Why does Mr. A. enter the ministry ? — 
 The final cause ? Why has Mr. B. gone to Paris ? — 
 The final cause ? Why have the American people 
 established a republican form of government? — 
 The final cause ? Why do men put their money 
 into farms, merchandise, railroads, bank-stock, or 
 make any kind of investments ? There is a pur- 
 pose, a final cause. A choice is made in view of 
 some perceived good or advantage. Without the 
 perceived good there would be no choice, the will 
 would be inactive. The mind perceiving and 
 appreciating, chooses. Did it not perceive the 
 good, there would be nothing to choose, and hence 
 no possible volitions. 
 
 168 
 
VOLITIONS CAUSED 
 
 There is another form of cause to which we have 
 alluded, that is necessary in order that the effect 
 may be what it is. This we have called " formal 
 cause," a plan for doing. It answers to the word 
 ** how " in what manner ? Not by what means, for 
 this is efficient cause, but according to what plan ? 
 "We cannot will to do anything unless there is 
 some conceived mode of doing it. Thus, it will 
 appear, there are three steps. (1) The end to be 
 accomplished. (2) The mode of reaching the end. 
 (3) The means employed for realizing the end, 
 according to the mode determined upon. Take as 
 an illustration the manufacture of a watch. As 
 preceding the use of machinery in constructing the 
 watch there are two requisites, (a) The purpose 
 or end to be realized, a watch for keeping time — 
 this is the end or final cause, (b) A knowledge of 
 mode of procedure, the conception of plan, with 
 the skill to execute the plan — this the formal 
 cause, (c) And then comes the employment of 
 means for the construction of the watch according 
 to the plan. This is the use of efficient cause. It 
 is the practical mechanical part of it all. Now 
 without final cause — the end or purpose of the 
 work — there would be no such thing as the con- 
 struction of a watch. And the will carries into 
 results the purpose formed according to the plan 
 followed. Here is a watch : it did not come into 
 existence without the operation of a cause. With- 
 out an end to be realized there would have been 
 
 169 
 
1 
 
 MAN-BUILDING 
 
 no volition whatever in regard to a watch — the 
 watch would never have been produced. Without 
 a final cause or desired end there could not be 
 either formal or efficient cause. Thus in rational 
 will man lives on the higher — the highest — plane 
 of causality. He sees, knows, and executes. No 
 round in the ladder of life — in our ascent to lofty 
 and noble manhood — can be more important or 
 effective than this. We choose by virtue of what 
 we perceive ; we thus, of ourselves, originate move- 
 ments. 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXVII 
 
 THE SYMMETRY OF MENTAL LIFE 
 
 As for the intellect, there is no realized objec- 
 tive reality without the will ; as the will is value- 
 less without intellect, and neither can achieve 
 full results without the sensibilities ; and as the 
 sensibilities would have no field of operation 
 without the intellect, and would utterly break 
 down without the will, it is of the highest impor- 
 tance that these energies of mind be put in complete 
 adjustment, each rendering service to the others. 
 Together they constitute the trinity of powers, and 
 all their work is done in co-operation. As neither 
 can do without the others, it would be folly to at- 
 tempt to establish an order of relative importance. 
 
 170 
 
SYMMETRY OF MENTAL LIFE 
 
 It is true that greatness and non-greatness are 
 terms applied to the intellect, goodness and bad- 
 ness to the heart, and efficiency and non-efficiency 
 to the will, and all of this with some degree of 
 appropriateness ; but the intellect alone cannot be 
 great, nor the will mighty. "What we desire to 
 enforce in the present chapter is the need of strict 
 proportionality in the development of mental 
 powers. 
 
 It is admitted to be a manifestation of weak- 
 ness when life flows principally along the channel 
 of feeling, not acted upon by the intellect nor 
 restrained or guided by the will. This is an 
 abnormal condition, and results in a disordered 
 life. There are multitudes of people who live for 
 pleasure. They seek excitement, and are misera- 
 ble without it. So eager are they for this that 
 questions of duty are pushed aside. They wish 
 to be amused, they cannot endure that which is 
 thoughtful, especially when it involves any measure 
 of sacrifice. In all this there is selfishness, cruci- 
 fying every noble impulse. 
 
 Then there is with many persons a morbid en- 
 joyment of the sentimental. They delight in the 
 tearful, are never so happy as when weeping ; they 
 seem to be very sympathetic; their hearts bleed 
 for those in sorrow. But this, too, is a manifesta- 
 tion of selfishness, a sort of rapture of pity or 
 grief. That it is unwholesome is evident from the 
 fact that this class of people are not impelled to 
 
 171 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 administer relief, but are utterly disinclined to 
 seek out the afflicted with any beneficent purpose. 
 We find such persons among confirmed novel 
 readers. They live in a world of the sad or tragic 
 in fiction, but refuse to go forth into the real world 
 of suffering men and women to carry light and 
 hope and deliverance. These persons dc not live 
 in the sunlight ; they do not want it ; they dwell 
 by preference in the dark shadows, in the self- 
 deception of a mock virtue of sorrow for others. 
 A life like this is wholly worthless. It does not lead 
 on to deeds of bravery or generosity; it paralyzes 
 the will and keeps the intellect in the background. 
 It is simply a drifting on a sea of excitement. The 
 highest purpose of the sensibilities is to cherish 
 feelings in harmony with cognitions — appropriate 
 to cognitions — inciting the will to act in achieving 
 what the intellect makes known as privilege or 
 duty. 
 
 There is still another class of people who are 
 almost utterly emotionless. They are cold and 
 stoical. The survey of life with its misfortunes 
 and tragedies makes no visible impression on them. 
 They sternly move on in a passionless tread what- 
 ever scenes stir the public. This does not give 
 the highest type of humanity. They are wholly 
 unlike the Man of Galilee who was arrested by 
 the cry of the blind man ; who was moved by the 
 voice of the weeping Mary ; who shed tears over 
 Jerusalem as He saw its impending doom ap- 
 
 172 
 
SYMMETRY OP MENTAL LIFE 
 
 proaching. He was not less a loYing companion 
 than a migtity leader. 
 
 Great intellectual powers cannot be a substitute 
 for fine sensibilities. Indeed the more massive 
 the powers of thought, the deeper should be the 
 fountain of feeling. He whose mental vision is 
 narrow does not see much to stir the soul ; but the 
 man who can go down into immense depths of 
 thought; unravel the great mysteries of being; 
 take, in the sweep of his vision, a universe of 
 reality and truth — the man of mighty grasp of 
 intellectual power — should, to be perfect, possess 
 sensibilities not less comprehensive. Greatness 
 must have eyes, not only, but ears to hear the song 
 of rejoicing and the wail of humanity; it must 
 feel the significance of knowledge ; the heart must 
 be as expansive as the intellect. 
 
 But he who has an acute intellect and lively 
 sensibilities needs also a responsive will. Perhaps 
 there is no defect more common than weakness of 
 will. People generally know what is right and per- 
 ceive that which is best, but very commonly do 
 not rise to the effort needed for achievement. 
 Indolence and will do not clasp hands. It is more 
 difficult to execute than to feel. The will must 
 not court ease ; it must not woo pleasure ; it must 
 not despise hardships ; it must possess unfaltering 
 energy ; it must not tremble in the presence of 
 danger, but wield a sceptre that cannot be wrested 
 from the grasp. That is perfection of the will that 
 
 173 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 acts up to the highest ideals of intellect and re- 
 sponds to all the normal impulses of the sensi- 
 bilities. It is free when it is rational ; and it is 
 mighty when it rules. It must say both yes and 
 no ; yes, when it should choose action ; no, when 
 it is solicited to do that which is unwise or im- 
 proper. Hence fullest knowledge should be 
 sought, right sentiments cherished, and rational 
 choice made ; and when the choice is made, nothing 
 should be allowed to deplete the energy of execu- 
 tion. Power is largely a might of will, at least a 
 consummation of the energies of personal activity. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXVin 
 
 CHARACTER 
 
 Character is the quality of one's life. This is 
 a broad statement, meaning not exactly its content, 
 but its forces in kind, in degree, in their estab- 
 lished trend. It is distinguished from the mental 
 life conferred at birth, yet not so much by knowl- 
 edge and experience, though there is a world-wide 
 difference here — as by habits formed. In charac- 
 ter we are what we make ourselves to be. The 
 word is usually understood to have a moral signif- 
 icance, as between selfishness and unselfishness, 
 virtue and vice, high and low aims, purity and im- 
 
 174 
 
CHAEACTER 
 
 purity, freedom from or subjection to debasing 
 appetites and passions. Character is acquired, it 
 is not inherited ; it is a personal trend established 
 by successive agreeing activities. A single deed, 
 good or bad, does not make character ; it is only 
 as the mode of life becomes habitual, showing a 
 uniformity of inclination which we follow, that 
 character becomes actual. 
 
 What are its elements ; how is it produced ? It 
 is spoken of as the creature of the will. We es- 
 tablish our life by successive operations of will, in 
 the choice made, and the direction we give to our 
 powers. This is true, but volitions alone do not 
 make character. Character comes as a reflex of 
 all our energies which the will directs, to which it 
 gives employment. 
 
 1. There is in character an intellectual element. 
 Nothing can exert a more potent influence over us 
 than the thoughts we permit to enter the mind. 
 They constitute the objects of attention; they 
 supply the world in which we live. Whether they 
 come from nature about us ; from text-books in 
 the schools ; from the papers and magazines read ; 
 from literature or science or history; from ad- 
 dresses delivered on the platform or sermons from 
 the pulpit ; from novels or philosophical treatises, 
 our thoughts are interwoven in our lives and fur- 
 nish the basis of all our mental and physical move- 
 ments. Man is as his thoughts, the themes he 
 considers, the breadth of intellectual comprehen- 
 
 175 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 sion, and the imagery which these themes hold up 
 to the mind. If the thoughts are great, there is 
 greatness of mental powers ; if they are vile, there 
 is depravity of such powers. If there is inability 
 to forge grand intellectual conceptions, the life can- 
 not rise higher than the plane of its mental work- 
 ings. An individual can be good, but not great 
 unless his mental energies are capable of a high 
 order of work. He who wields mighty blows in 
 the handling of truth, shows, on the intellectual 
 side, the capability of a grand personality, if his 
 energies are constantly in the right direction. In 
 the making of character the intellect should not 
 be eliminated from the problem. The race will 
 never be lifted up to as high a plane of being as it 
 should reach, it will never be able to display a 
 character of the greatest merit, without the general 
 prevalence of intellectual culture — only indeed as 
 the people become thoroughly educated. 
 
 To guide the mental forces is a prime necessity 
 in the lifting up of each generation as it makes its 
 appearance. Illiteracy opens the way to personal 
 and public dangers without number. Right citi- 
 zenship calls for culture ; strong, rational govern- 
 ments cannot do without it ; freedom can be main- 
 tained only as the people are intelligent. No 
 great movements in behalf of reform or in the di- 
 rection of human rights can be carried forward to 
 large success unless the brain is clear and knowl- 
 edge is at the helm. To have a basis of power in 
 
 176 
 
CHAEACTEE 
 
 character, a soul with the j&rmest fibres for steadi- 
 ness of life, as well as might for consistent influ- 
 ence, the realm of thought must receive attention. 
 Manhood is a life of reason — without the rational 
 there can be no manhood. Character is that which 
 has become habitual in the life of a rational being. 
 
 2. Another element in character is feeling, and 
 when indulged it has a decided tendency to be- 
 come habitual. It has already been said that mo- 
 tives are made to be motives through the feelings 
 which objects of interest awaken within us. Every 
 appeal made to us, in business, in scholarship, in 
 the political, social, or religious world, finds its way 
 to the sensibilities, otherwise it is utterly fruitless. 
 Right feelings eventuate in right deeds, and to 
 make the life consistently upright, there must be 
 uniformly this class of feelings. Thoughts never 
 move the will without the co-operation of the feel- 
 ings. There is no potency in a right judgment or 
 a notion of expediency, but when the judgment or 
 the notion awakens an interest, when the heart 
 becomes involved, then the will issues its orders. 
 Were it not for the feelings midway between the 
 intellect and the will, there would be an impassa- 
 ble gulf. Feelings bridge the chasm. Hence the 
 habitual in feelings establishes character on the 
 line of the feelings. And the character is worthy 
 just in the ratio of worthy predominating feelings. 
 
 3. Will is the centre of personality ; its office is 
 to rule over the life. Character, we admit and af- 
 
 177 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 firm, is the product of the will. As it chooses and 
 directs is the character that is built up. But it 
 performs its work by its control of the thoughts 
 and feelings. It should regulate the thoughts with 
 infinite exactitude. It should reject all themes 
 that are base; it should discard everything that 
 would contaminate the imagination or load the 
 memory with polluting scenes. It should not per- 
 mit the puerile to engross attention. It should 
 establish a high plane of intellectual effort. It 
 should regularly restrain the intellectual life from 
 that which is harmful, and constantly lead it up 
 toward the higher realms of truth and knowledge. 
 It should carefully guard the sensibilities that 
 vile imaginings be excluded. It should create a 
 tendency toward the monopoly of the life of the 
 spirit by emotions that are consistently elevating 
 and refining. It should hold the feelings with 
 such a steady hand that they gain the habit of 
 operating uniformly in the domain of what is 
 noble and exalted. Thus character is made, and 
 is as lofty as it is persistent. 
 
 178 
 
TKAINING OF THE WILL 
 
 CHAPTER XXXIX 
 TRAINING OF THE WILL 
 
 In the training of the will the end sought should 
 be a habit of making right, prompt, and vigorous 
 decisions, the giving to will a ready and effective 
 supremacy. It must be borne in mind that no 
 power can be trained alone. The problem is a 
 mixed one. With the end in view of developing 
 and guiding the will, several considerations should 
 receive our attention. We first refer to the fact 
 that indecision often grows out of intellectual un- 
 certainty. He who has no opinion has no plans to 
 execute. Convictions of judgment must precede 
 acts relating to judgments. There can be no in- 
 spiration for the doing where clouds obscure the 
 vision. Acuteness of intellect, knowledge firmly 
 in the grasp, gives a distinct basis for will-move- 
 ment. And when the interest felt corresponds 
 with the knowledge gained, the antecedent to will- 
 power is complete. In the training of the will for 
 the best and most rational service, several forms 
 of discipline are needed. 
 
 1. There should be a conscientious purpose not 
 to allow the will to shirk its responsibilities. A 
 habit should be gained of completing thought with 
 action. Disinclination for any reason should be 
 
 179 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 overcome. No break should be allowed this side 
 of duty done. Life would be truncated, not carried 
 out to a rational whole. To be perfect, we must do 
 as well as know. With many people there is both 
 the spirit and habit of executive indolence. The 
 will is thus feeble and becomes more and more 
 flaccid. It should be like the well -trained team of 
 the fire department, springing forward for its task 
 when the alarm is given. To allow thought and 
 feeling to evaporate into thin air is to make will 
 nearly a nonentity. Putting it out of commission 
 is to give it no place in the battle of life. 
 
 2. The will should be trained into a spirit and 
 habit of promptitude. Some people seem to be 
 governed by the principle of never doing to-day 
 what can be put off till to-morrow. In business 
 always behind ; in meeting an engagement invari- 
 ably late. " Oh, plenty of time ! " Napoleon swept 
 over Europe because he was always ahead. *' Strik- 
 ing while the iron is hot " — not after it cools off — 
 fortunes are made. " Pretty soon " is failure. 
 The boy who begins life with methods of procras- 
 tination will be a toy in the hands of fate. The 
 student who neglects his lesson till just before the 
 hour for recitation may, perhaps, be graduated, but 
 with meagre scholarship. The moment a debt is 
 due is the moment to pay it. As soon as duty calls 
 is the time to respond. Holding one's self to the 
 resolute purpose of prompt and unflinching execu- 
 tion of plans formed, the will rises naturally and 
 
 ISO 
 
TRAINING OF THE WILL 
 
 easily to all the demands made upon it. It be- 
 comes reliable and certain along the lines of its 
 training. 
 
 3. The will to be trained so as to become mighty 
 must have vigorous employment. Solomon never 
 spoke more wisely than when he said, '^ Whatso- 
 ever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might." 
 The decisions rendered should have a strong fibre. 
 " I rather think I will do this or that " breathes 
 an air of feebleness. Planting one's feet firmly is 
 a preparation for the strife. Indecision is a listen- 
 ing for the command to retreat. Greatness is 
 never gained by tentative efforts. Doing becomes 
 grand when the whole soul is thrown into the 
 work. The weather-vane tells the direction of the 
 wind, but it has no power to regulate its course. 
 By vigorous use, acquiring the tendency to will 
 strongly, life becomes almost irresistible. Be not 
 content to possess passive virtues ; act aggressively ; 
 accustom the will to put energy into its decisions, 
 and it must triumph. 
 
 4. Never allow the will to falter, though experi- 
 ences be trying. He who can " swear to his own 
 hurt and change not" has a conscience and will 
 that do not swerve from duty. To bring the will 
 into a state that is ready to do difficult things is to 
 secure efficient training. No test is better than 
 this, and no process more effective in working out 
 positive results. " A remarkably successful busi- 
 ness man," says Halleck, " said he had divided all 
 
 181 
 
MAI^-BUILDING 
 
 persons into two classes ; those who did what they 
 promised or were directed to do, and those who re- 
 turned with some reason why they had not done 
 it. When he employed persons he always set 
 them certain hard tasks at the outset. If they re- 
 turned with a reason why they had not done it, he 
 dismissed them. In this way he surrounded him- 
 self with an unusually fine set of employees on 
 whom he could depend." "Nothing schools the 
 will and renders it ready for effort in this complex 
 world better than accustoming it to face disagree- 
 able things." Professor James advises all " to do 
 something occasionally for no other reason than 
 they would rather not do it ; if it is nothing more 
 than giving up a seat in a street-car. A will 
 schooled in this way is always ready to respond, 
 no matter how great the emergency. While another 
 would be still crying over spilled milk, the pos- 
 sessor of such a will has already begun to milk 
 another cow." 
 
 Not only to secure power should will be trained, 
 but that it may be guided in the right direction. 
 We do not here speak of unprofitable choice, un- 
 successful choice in money making ; in the gaining 
 of a livelihood ; in the employment adopted ; this 
 is usually, if wrong, an error of judgment, a fault 
 of the intellect ; but we speak of decisions involv- 
 ing right, relating to the true office of the will. 
 When personal interests say one thing and right 
 the opposite, what shall the will do ? He who is 
 
 182 
 
OFFICE OF CONSCIENCE 
 
 true to the best ideals will make the sacrifice of 
 personal advantage and profit that justice and 
 right may prevail. It is just here that people fail 
 more than anywhere else. The mightiest will is 
 that which enforces principles of equity what- 
 ever may be the bearing on individual interests. 
 To be able promptly, unhesitatingly, and easily to 
 do this, displays a will of the highest order. To 
 secure this should be the aim of every young man 
 and woman. When this becomes an accomplished 
 fact the world will have reached a state of moral 
 perfection. Righteousness is a creation of will. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 THE OFFICE OF CONSCIENCE 
 
 The organism of life, we have seen, is exceed- 
 ingly complex. Each individual is a composite 
 unit, endowed with diverse powers. Can the 
 members of the human family, thrown out to- 
 gether on the field of competitive activity, be kept 
 from destructive antagonism? Will not strife, 
 bitter and interminable, be a certainty ? Will not 
 men jostle each other, getting in each other's way, 
 unrestrained except by fear ? The ability to know, 
 to feel, and to will, if this be all, cannot establish 
 harmonious relations ; they do not set in operation 
 
 183 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 a working plan in which agreement will be realized. 
 Knowledge is not a competent arbiter in the midst 
 of selfish interests and inordinate greed. And 
 feeling left to itself will lead away from righteous 
 ends ; while will is lawless, except under restraint. 
 The race is sure to be a failure unless there be a 
 standard of right, a clear moral vision to perceive 
 the standard, and a force acting on the life in the 
 direction of right. God therefore has provided 
 man with a conscience as a regulating energy, sup- 
 plying a need vital to his well-being as an individ- 
 ual and as a constituent of the race. 
 
 If the word conscience is made to stand for the 
 complex psychosis of the moral force within us, it 
 expresses three distinct operations. 
 
 1. It is the power of making moral distinc- 
 tions, of perceiving there are two opposite quali- 
 ties and spheres — right and wrong — in the moral 
 world. It is a power by which the moral law is 
 recognized. In a sense it is a moral legislator, not 
 exactly enacting the law, but bringing it within 
 the scope of reason, finding it as a universal prin- 
 ciple, and therefore as universally binding. This 
 ability to make moral distinctions is not gained 
 by training ; the law is not a generalization, an 
 inference based on an agreement or uniformity 
 found by means of a multitude of observations on 
 the part of each human being; but there is in the 
 mind a power of intuitive perception of rightness, 
 a power to recognize right, long before the child is 
 
 184 
 
OFFICE OF CONSCIENCE 
 
 able to find a sufficiently wide basis for this uni- 
 versal distinction. Eight is a first principle, but 
 inferences or generalizations are derived. 
 
 2. The second form of activity of conscience is 
 what may be called the moral judgment, not find- 
 ing the law, but judging of the quality of acts by 
 the law. While the former has the force of legis- 
 lation, this is judicial. In the act performed the 
 law is obeyed or violated. As, for instance, in 
 what I did was I honest or dishonest ? Was I 
 justified in making the statement which I made ? 
 Is it right for me to vote this ticket? Is the 
 business in which I am engaged a legitimate one ? 
 To ask if I can conscientiously do a particular 
 deed is to raise the question of its agreement with 
 the law of right. It is a judicial inquiry in the 
 field of morals. And it is intended that this func- 
 tion of conscience shall be constantly in operation. 
 It is the exercise of judgment in the moral sphere. 
 To find the law is one thing, to judge acts by the 
 law is quite another. 
 
 3. The third form of mental action in con- 
 science is emotional. We here have moral senti- 
 ments. They are feelings which attach themselves 
 to moral judgments. The condemnation by the 
 judgment of an act as wrong carries with it a feel- 
 ing of condemnation. With an approving judg- 
 ment there is associated an approving feeling. The 
 judgment and feeling cannot be dissociated, they 
 cannot be separated by a period of time. The 
 
 185 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 emotion is not felt in the absence of the judgment 
 though it may exist in different degrees of inten- 
 sity in relation to the act, or judgment concerning 
 the act. This emotional force is subject to great 
 variations. It may be acute ; it may be dull ; it 
 may be intensely awake ; it may be nearly asleep ; 
 it may be sensitive ; it may be seared over ; it may 
 be an accusing energy ; or it may be in a state of 
 indifference. It may be quickly responsive or 
 slow in its movements. It may be persistent in 
 its demands or yielding to opposing forces. 
 
 The purpose of conscience with its three-fold 
 functions is the regulation of life on lines of right, 
 justice, and humanity, so that duties may be dis- 
 charged, obligations met, and wrong find no place 
 among men. No provision could be more complete. 
 A law of moral distinctions universally perceived, 
 and as a law being a universal imperative ; the 
 ability to judge of the moral qualities of acts con- 
 stantly brought into operation ; and an emotional 
 energy prompting obedience, making life miser- 
 able when moral judgments are disregarded, and 
 peaceful and joyous when the claims of the law are 
 regarded and its voice listened to, such is the com- 
 bined force seeking to rule in the breast. In loy- 
 alty to conscience humanity reaches its highest 
 condition of excellence ; in disloyalty there is de- 
 basement of life, and it may be a degradation lead- 
 ing to ultimate ruin of the soul. Without con- 
 science there would be no restraints from wrong, 
 
 186 
 
TEAIOTNG OF CONSCIENCE 
 
 society would be torn into fragments ; more than 
 this, every man's hand would be lifted up against 
 his neighbor, and earth would be a pandemonium. 
 To live here at all as a race, with social and busi- 
 ness relations, under government for protection, 
 with associate interests calling for co-operation, 
 conscience is an indisputable requisite. At every 
 turn we make we need its voice to guide us, and 
 to be able to see the sceptre it wields. 
 
 CHAPTER XLI 
 
 THE TRAINING OF CONSCIENCE 
 
 It is unfortunate that the practical authority of 
 conscience is not equal to its rights. It is born a 
 King, but like many another sovereign it has re- 
 bellious subjects. If set to be the ruler over our 
 lives it ought to possess qualifications of the high- 
 est possible order ; it would be well, indeed, were 
 it infallible. But is it not infallible? We hold that 
 it is infallible as a legislator, or in other words, in 
 bringing to us a moral law, for there is no race, 
 no tribe, no individual however uneducated that 
 does not intuitively apprehend moral distinctions. 
 Without instruction, at the very opening of human 
 intelligence, as we have said, the child proceeds on 
 the basis — the practical theory — of moral order 
 
 187 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 under whicli all deportment must come. This is 
 never imparted as a tenet of belief, as a truth to 
 be learned, but all instruction given assumes this 
 as an innate qualification, an existing preparation 
 for moral judgments. We say to the child " this 
 is wrong," but we never say there is such a thing 
 as wrong. 
 
 In the exercise of its judicial functions in settling 
 the question of the right or wrong of specific 
 deeds — that is, in the domain of moral judgments 
 — conscience is not infallible, it often makes mis- 
 takes. We not only, from a lack of knowledge, 
 frequently misjudge other people as to their pur- 
 poses, the character of their acts, but we may 
 wrongly render a decision in regard to our own 
 deeds. We may conceive an act to be humane 
 which is not humane, or to be harmful when it is 
 a blessing. Our ability to judge depends upon our 
 knowledge, which is not a fixed quantity, and cer- 
 tainly is not without limit. Omniscience alone is 
 beyond the possibility of error in judgment as to the 
 quality and bearing of every act. We therefore say 
 that conscience, as moral judgment, can and ought 
 to be educated. It should daily gain more skill 
 in determining the nature of the relations in which 
 we live, and the bearing of our acts upon others. 
 And we should seek to sharpen our powers of 
 moral judgment so that they shall quickly respond 
 when a question of right is raised. This is a court 
 into which every deed bearing on our relations to 
 
 188 
 
TEAINING OP CONSCIENCE 
 
 our fellow-men should be brought. The most rep- 
 rehensible of all methods) of procedure is the com- 
 mon exclusion of our deeds from this court. The 
 inquiry which the soul should make of itself at 
 every step in life is, what shall I do for my neigh- 
 bor — in this world of business, in this world in 
 which relations are intertwined, in this world in 
 which each is dependent on every other member 
 of the race? Yes, the moral judgment can and 
 should be educated. 
 
 As to the emotional functions of conscience, the 
 aim of which is to secure the execution of moral 
 judgments, are they susceptible to training ? There 
 can be no subject for inquiry more important than 
 this. Does the education of the moral judgments 
 cover the whole ground ? We have said that moral 
 sentiments, as to kind, will be in harmony with the 
 decisions of the judgment ; they attach themselves 
 to and support the judgment. But the emotional 
 state of the conscience may be more or less vehe- 
 ment, more or less importunate, it may more or 
 less fully rise to the demands of the judgment. 
 There is a great difference between a slight uneasi- 
 ness of feeling and remorse ; a degree of disquie- 
 tude that calmly chides and that poignant horror 
 of the soul which drives " sleep from the eyes and 
 slumber from the eyelids." The training of this 
 energy of the conscience is like the training of any 
 other mental susceptibility or power — it is effected 
 through rational employment. Suppressing feel- 
 
 189 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 ing when it ought to have place in the life will 
 deaden its force. Persistently refusing to carry out 
 the decrees of the judgment will gradually result 
 in less disquietude of soul. On the other hand, 
 living up to the claims which conscience makes, 
 regular obedience to the commands it issues, will 
 keep it alert and make it just and forcible in the 
 fulfilment of its office. Treat conscience rightly ; 
 appreciate at their full value the judgments ren- 
 dered ; loyally carry these judgments into execu- 
 tion ; let the sentiments in behalf of honesty, virtue, 
 fair dealing, of all human rights, and the divine 
 claims, be regarded as a precious possession of the 
 soul — an expression of humanity itself in its best 
 mood — and conscience will unfold not less per- 
 fectly and grandly than any other energy of your 
 life under the best conditions of progress. 
 
 But if conscience be not perfect, why say it 
 should be obeyed? There must be supremacy 
 lodged somewhere, and if not in conscience, in what 
 other faculty of our being? Were we to say that 
 conscience might be disobeyed, it would be holding 
 that it would be right to do what at the time we 
 thought to be wrong. We are not now considering 
 absolute relations, but the principle by which we 
 are to be guided. We desire, it is assumed, to get 
 as near as possible to the right in our deportment. 
 The way is plain. Employing the light we have 
 in making a decision is doing the best we can do. 
 That answers the demands of conscience for that 
 
 190 
 
TEAINING OP CONSCIENCE 
 
 particular deed. But still it may cover up wrong, 
 it may be in violation of important relations, for 
 we may have carelessly or wilfully neglected to 
 obtain the light needed to make the right decision. 
 We do not thus meet our entire obligation in mak- 
 ing the decision, and can justly be held responsi- 
 ble for the inability that had been self- incurred. 
 But when a person says I am doing the best I can, 
 what more can be asked of him? Nothing more 
 can be asked for that moment, but there may be 
 shortcomings in the past which enfeebled con- 
 science, unfitting it to give utterance to that which 
 is nearer the absolute standard of right. Hence, 
 though conscientious, we may be guilty, not be- 
 cause we follow conscience — not in the following 
 of conscience — but because of previous dereliction 
 in not educating conscience. He who is conscien- 
 tious in what he does, and scrupulously educates 
 the conscience in making right judgments and 
 cherishing right feelings, will constantly grow up 
 toward a perfect life. 
 
 Conscience is sometimes called the voice of God. 
 It does make its appeal in behalf of right ; it is 
 loyal to the principles of truth ; it makes its de- 
 cisions in the interest of righteousness and univer- 
 sal humanity, and it echoes the feelings of the 
 Divine Heart against wrongs of every kind, and in 
 favor of a life that ever looks toward holiness and 
 heaven. Give to it absolute authority. 
 
 191 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 CHAPTER XLII 
 THE POWER OF CONVICTIONS 
 
 The high order of powers with which God has 
 endowed the race supplies an equipment for the 
 accomplishment of great results. And conscience 
 holding the scales of justice provides a regulating 
 force in the employment of these powers. Is any- 
 thing further needed to secure the largest achieve- 
 ments ? While conscience stands in the defence 
 of right, it may be purely repressive. Forbidding 
 that which is wrong, it may fail to stimulate to 
 action. It may utter its prohibitions with great 
 force, yet leave the life stationary. As a propel- 
 ling energy, if much that is of value be done, there 
 must be positive and strong convictions. By strong 
 convictions we do not mean a sanguine tempera- 
 ment. This may be helpful or harmful. While 
 it awakens anticipations of good, it may put too 
 much coloring into life. 
 
 Convictions stand over in opposition to uncer- 
 tainty, inappreciativeness, slight estimate of values. 
 It is not frivolous, or easy-going ; it takes a serious 
 view of things that are important. It is faith in 
 action. It is the intellectual life holding with a 
 firm grasp the realities on which it looks, and with 
 an intent gaze. Under its influence whatever is 
 done is done with a will. 
 
 192 
 
POWEE OF CONVICTIONS 
 
 The young man in college who looks upon a lib- 
 eral education as of great worth, will become a 
 scholar. His hours will not be squandered ; he 
 will throw his whole soul into his work, and will 
 make the sacrifice necessary to carry out his plans. 
 Student life in our schools falls below what is pos- 
 sible, just to the extent that low standards prevail. 
 He who is in college because his parents send him, 
 or because he would be glad to have a reputation 
 for scholarship, or because of the prominence of 
 athletics, will never take the lead in mental pur- 
 suits. But the young man who is deeply impressed 
 with the conviction that learning is worth more than 
 money, more than any other earthly good ; whose 
 thoughts and plans are dominated by an overwhelm- 
 ing desire to dwell in the temple of truth, will over- 
 come all difficulties in his search for knowledge. 
 
 The majority of people take the world easily. 
 They must labor or starve, but they are most 
 happy when the demands made on them are the 
 least exacting. They do not enter into the spirit 
 of industry ; they are not eager for the strife with 
 nature's forces in the feeling that they have a mis- 
 sion for the development of the age in material re- 
 sources, or in the wider interests of a genuine civ- 
 ilization. Too much is the individual lost in the 
 mass ; we are swept through life by the momentum 
 of the tide of humanity, instead of exerting a per- 
 sonal influence in shaping affairs. Nothing to do 
 but to move on with the crowd ! Hence it is that 
 
 193 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 the few make history, the few only who dig out 
 the channels in which life — industrial, civil, and 
 religious — moves. 
 
 We make the assertion that great changes have 
 been wrought on the earth less through favoring 
 conditions than by the power of deep-seated and 
 engrossing convictions. And again that great 
 achievements have been made only as the soul has 
 arisen in its might, with a consciousness of per- 
 sonal responsibilities, or such a conviction of power 
 as to control all the energies of life. Patriotism is 
 the mightiest impulse in an army because it is the 
 heart that quickens the nerves, supplies undying 
 tenacity to the will, and makes the cause for which 
 the army is battling more precious than any other 
 interest. 
 
 Pick out the leaders in the great world move- 
 ments of the ages. They have been men and wom- 
 en who have believed profoundly in what they 
 were doing, and were heroes before they struck a 
 blow. Paul knew he was set for the regeneration 
 of the race when having heard the voice of the 
 Son of God from the skies he was commissioned at 
 Damascus to go forth as the messenger of truth. 
 He had asked the question, " What wilt thou have 
 me to do ? " and so thoroughly is he dominated by 
 his convictions that he cries out, "Woe is unto me 
 if I preach not the gospel." Luther became in- 
 vincible when his eyes were opened to the enor- 
 mities of the doctrines and the practices of the 
 
 194 
 
POWER OF CONVICTIONS 
 
 Church, and he found himself alone in the thick of 
 the battle. A man who can face an empire with- 
 out the quiver of a muscle ; who so thoroughly be- 
 lieves in the righteousness of his cause that he can 
 unflinchingly cry out, " Hero I stand, I can do no 
 other," cannot easily be trampled under foot, and 
 hence the revolution of the sixteenth century. I 
 do not know that Joan of Arc held a divine com- 
 mission, but she did not doubt she was called to 
 deliver her people, and the world w^as astonished 
 by her military achievements. They call Edison 
 the wizard, but a man who is so deeply engrossed 
 in his studies as to be utterly oblivious of the flight 
 of time, who works on till the morning dawns, and 
 for weeks and months hides himself from the world, 
 retiring from all human companionship that he 
 may talk with nature, cannot be defeated. 
 
 No man is mighty in the pulpit who but half 
 believes the Bible. The young man who says, " I 
 can," makes destiny. " This one thing I do," con- 
 trols fate. Napoleon's belief that he was a man of 
 destiny made him irresistible, and he invariably 
 triumphed till recklessness took the place of ra- 
 tional convictions. The pilgrims' trust in God led 
 to the braving of the perils of an unknown sea, and 
 the redemption of a continent from the barbarism 
 of savage tribes. Wealth flows into the lap of him 
 who with heart devotion intelligently concentrates 
 his powers on the work of money-making. The 
 summit of influence and power is gained by him 
 
 195 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 who with unfaltering steps climbs the mountain- 
 side to greatness. He who doubts leads a strength- 
 less life ; but the man who has intense convictions 
 of duty, profound convictions of power, throws 
 might into his movements and snatches victory 
 even from the hand of adversity. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIII 
 
 THE SPIRITUAL 
 
 When we say that man possesses a spiritual 
 nature, we do not mean simply that he is a spirit 
 in contrast with matter, or that he possesses ener- 
 gies of thought, of feeling, and willing which are 
 unlike the properties of material objects ; but that 
 he is endowed with susceptibilities of being im- 
 pressed by the supernatural, and with powers to 
 reach out and find God and commune with Him. 
 And in asserting this we are not considering God 
 as known in metaphysics, a necessary cause for all 
 finite things, a fact which the scholar determines 
 as a foundation of conditioned being — a cold 
 intellectual affirmation — but as a power which 
 even the unlearned, who know nothing about meta- 
 physics, have of entering into God's presence and 
 holding converse with Him. The intellect tells us 
 about God ; our spiritual powers find Him. 
 
 196 
 
THE SPIEITUAL 
 
 The conviction of the supernatural is universal. 
 No tribe of men has ever been found that did not 
 conceive of a life beyond the present. Though not 
 comprehending God's Being and plans, yet in all 
 ages men have stood in awe of Him, and have 
 sought to placate Him, or secure personal favors. 
 Wrought into our life, then, and as a part of our 
 life, there is a reaching out after God. This lifts 
 up the race to a state of dignity and opportunity 
 it otherwise could not realize. Most wonderful is 
 man in that for him — because of the range of his 
 powers — there is provision for divine companion- 
 ship. 
 
 Whatever may be said of the lower animal world 
 as to powers of knowing, remembering, and reason- 
 ing, it has no apprehension of the Eternal Spirit. 
 Its intellectual natare does not reach up to the 
 plane where the Infinite dwells. Nothing is so 
 wonderful as that our life can touch God's life, 
 that there is direct communication between Him 
 and us. 
 
 Some have held that worship is ignoble, adora- 
 tion unbecoming to man's dignity. Is patriotism 
 unbecoming, is it degrading to shout for our 
 country's flag? Is the love of the child for the 
 parent, a love that leads to joyous acquiescence in 
 the very wish of the father or mother, an evidence 
 of personal degradation ? To pay to the Supreme 
 Being the highest honor the soul can render, is 
 this a stooping of manhood ? Is it degrading for 
 
 197 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 the needy to acknowledge his wants ; for the igno- 
 rant to ask for wisdom ? Is it belittling for the 
 sinful to seek for help that he may rise above his 
 sinful propensities ? Is it not, indeed, the highest 
 act of a human intelligence to adore God as the 
 Eternal Spirit, possessing all knowledge, holding 
 in His hands the destiny of the universe, omnipo- 
 tent and omnipresent, beholding the end from the 
 beginning, fathomless in His love, infinite in His 
 mercy, perfect in all His attributes ? How exalt- 
 ing true worship is ! It requires the loftiest pow- 
 ers of cognition. There must be the ability to 
 conceive of and know God. We cannot worship 
 the unknowable. And then there must be a spirit 
 of fidelity to the relations we sustain to Him. He 
 is base in whose heart dwells disloyalty to truth, 
 to love, to justice, to mercy, to that which is com- 
 plete in power and goodness, which is the fulness 
 of divine life. 
 
 There are two or three facts that must not 
 escape our attention. He in whose breast spiritual 
 forces are deadened lives on a plane far below 
 ideal manhood. He has an emasculated nature. 
 He has parted with the richest of his endowments. 
 Gratitude to the Divine Being is a loftier act, and 
 is more meritorious in spirit, than gratitude to any 
 earthly benefactor. To recognize the continuous 
 beneficence of our Heavenly Father is more ra- 
 tional than the fullest appreciation of any favors 
 the public can bestow. 
 
 198 
 
THE SPIEITUAL 
 
 The office of rational worship in exalting the 
 life is seen in the practical workings of the Chris- 
 tian religion when preserved in its purest spiritual 
 state. There is no other form of civilization to be 
 compared with Christian civilization as a develop- 
 ment of human life. Here power is organized in 
 its largest proportions ; governments come the 
 nearest to the line of equity; humanity has its 
 richest flavor; homes are most peaceful and 
 happy; intelligence bears widest sway, and per- 
 sonal rights are most fully regarded. And when 
 any community is most completely under the 
 power of a spiritual life, all forms of evil are les- 
 sened, and vice hides its deformed head. 
 
 The spiritual completes the manhood and re- 
 stores the divine image. Without it this would be 
 a world utterly lost. It is the great conservative 
 power for right. God must touch human hearts 
 or society is a failure. Tear out from the soul the 
 fibres of the spiritual and ruin would speedily 
 follow. Quicken and deepen the spiritual forces 
 and right would wield a mightier sceptre, and the 
 nature of man would become richer in all that is 
 good and lovely. In the spiritual is found man's 
 highest excellence. 
 
 But to give the spiritual its greatest power, the 
 intellect must do its best work, the heart offer its 
 richest oblations, and the will hold the soul most 
 inflexibly to duty. That religiously there is ad- 
 vantage in intellectual culture is apparent when 
 
 199 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 we remember that all truth is of God. The more 
 we know, the better we understand His works, and 
 the more thoroughly we discipline our powers, the 
 greater will be our ability to reach up toward the 
 Infinite. The culture of the heart affects a spirit 
 of reverence for truth and makes it more ready to 
 submit to its sway. The will taught to choose 
 right and duty, so as to incline the whole life 
 thereto, puts the soul in a state of loyalty to the 
 divine government. The spiritual, in building up 
 our being, requires all of these, using them as its 
 servants, making them the foundation of its tem- 
 ple of perfection. He is the best Christian who 
 knows the most of God, adores Him with the most 
 ardor of soul, and keeps nearest to Christ in daily 
 companionship. 
 
 200 
 
PART SECOND 
 
 PHYSIOLOGICAL 
 
CHAPTEE XLIV 
 
 INTEGRITY AND DIFFERENTIATION OF THE 
 
 BODY 
 
 It is impossible to understand the human mind 
 without embracing in our studies the functions of 
 the body. It is especially necessary to trace the 
 relations of the nervous system to mental forces 
 and activities. This we have done in our exposi- 
 tion of the j&rst forms of knowledge. As mental 
 manifestations first appear in sensation and per- 
 ception ; and other forms of knowledge in their 
 development rest back on the energies thus 
 awakened ; it is impossible to take the first step 
 in the unfolding of the science of mind without a 
 resort to principles of physiology. This we have 
 considered so far as the discussion seemed to re- 
 quire. There are other physiological facts and 
 conditions which call for exposition in order that 
 the subject of manhood may be properly rounded 
 out. It is not our purpose to write a physiologi- 
 cal treatise, but to supplement what we have said 
 by the statement of such facts as directly bear on 
 the right methods of living. 
 
 An individual is defined as " a single person in- 
 capable of separation or division, without losing 
 
 203 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 its identity." It therefore possesses unity. The 
 unity of the body, however, is unlike the unity of 
 the mind. The body is composite, while the mind 
 is non-composite. The body is capable of division 
 into parts, mind substance is incapable of such di- 
 vision. The mind is an absolutely inseparable en- 
 tity with differentiated functions only ; the body 
 consists of parts, and the functional differentiation 
 is the location of specific energies distributively in 
 these several parts. The eye is a medium of sight 
 and the ear of hearing — here we have structural 
 differentiation as a necessity for functional differ- 
 entiation — but it is the whole mind that sees 
 through the eye and hears through the ear, the 
 differentiation being only fimctional. In this we 
 find a wide contrast. 
 
 There is one part of the bodily structure which 
 in the universality of its functional operation ap- 
 proximates somewhat the functional office of mind : 
 we here speak of the nervous system. The sphere 
 of service of the muscles is limited, of the bones is 
 limited, of the hands and feet is limited ; but the 
 nervous system presides over the whole body, 
 gives life to it all, and supplies every part with the 
 energy of sensation. But this even is localized 
 in the specific offices served. Sight differs from 
 every other sense, and performs its office through 
 the optic nerve. Taste is a special sensation for 
 which special nerves in the mouth are supplied. 
 In bodily differentiation, therefore, there are spe- 
 
 204 
 
DIFFEKENTIATION OF THE BODY 
 
 cific organs to which are assigned special offices 
 in the economy of life and mode of action. 
 
 While mind and body are interdependent, neither 
 in the economy of nature existing without the other, 
 and in many respects neither performing its work 
 without the co-operation of the other, yet bodily de- 
 fects, when they exist, are largely local, but mental 
 defects impair the whole mental being. The hand 
 may be amputated without harm to general bodily 
 health. The ear may be deafened without impair- 
 ment of other organs. Indeed, when one organ is 
 rendered useless, some other organ is often quick- 
 ened and made more serviceable. When sight 
 fails, hearing may gradually become more attent. 
 But a mental weakness is a limitation of mind 
 energy for which there is no substitute. Feeble 
 powers of perception work harm to the imagina- 
 tion, to memory, and even to thought itself in the 
 absence of material for thought. 
 
 Yet there are great laws which run through the 
 bodily structure as well as the mind. The same 
 general principle operates in development, a law 
 of growth by use. The mind is built up by the 
 gaining of knowledge — the development and in- 
 herence of knowledge ; the body by the supply of 
 food which is incorporated into the physical struct- 
 ure. Continuous mental inaction produces mental 
 weakness ; bodily inaction enfeebles the muscles. 
 The mind needs rest from severe effort, and in a 
 like manner the body ; but in each probably the 
 
 205 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 danger is from too great nervous strain. In nu- 
 trition, the food supplies waste, which is constant- 
 ly taking place — for bodily structure parts with 
 constituents of its being in the energies exerted. 
 There is no such thing as mental waste, as a law 
 of being. Knowledge gained may become uncon- 
 scious, but it is not lost ; it comes back into con- 
 sciousness when favorable conditions arise. Mind 
 is intended to be accumulative, growing in knowl- 
 edge and might, expanding in its life through the 
 entire period of its existence. The body, however, 
 reaches its largest power in a few years of time, 
 and then passes down a declivity of energy and 
 service, ending in death. 
 
 We devote a few chapters to discussions which 
 have to do with the physiological side of our being 
 as affecting mind and character. In this world 
 we cannot live as mind alone, our personality em- 
 braces both body and spirit in mutual action and 
 co-operation. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLV 
 
 THE CAEE OF THE BODY 
 
 "While caring only for the body defeats the 
 purposes of life, its neglect, even because of an 
 absorbing interest in the operations of mind, is 
 productive of harm. " A sound mind in a sound 
 
 206 
 
CAEE OP THE BODY 
 
 body " has been a favorite motto. We may pusli 
 the thought a little further and say that mind 
 efficiency, in the fullest sense, cannot be ob- 
 tained without a body both sound and trained 
 for co-operation with the mind. 
 
 The first thing to be considered is health. Many 
 persons become enfeebled because of excessive 
 labor. There is something wrong in our civiliza- 
 tion when individuals must either shorten life by 
 too exhaustive labor or die from starvation. This 
 is not accounted for by a lack of business capacity. 
 Making full allowance for this there are many who 
 are crowded into conditions of ruinous competition 
 and robbed of the natural fruit of their toil. The 
 woman who makes shirts at six cents apiece is not 
 to be set down as an incompetent, but as a victim 
 of rapacity. And she must toil through the night 
 if she would live through the day. There are 
 multitudes of people who cannot get out from a 
 state of degrading servitude, many of whom de- 
 plete their powers of resistance to disease, and die 
 a premature death. Social conditions which ad- 
 mit of this industrial trend, and which lead to it, 
 need a reconstruction. 
 
 There is an opposite tendency, especially with cer- 
 tain classes. Persons of sedentary habits, or those 
 having employment in forms of industry which do 
 not call for physical effort, are quite likely to 
 neglect physical exercise. Book-keeping, type- 
 writing, office work of any kind offers temptations 
 
 207 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 to general physical inaction, with a tendency to 
 bodily harm. The traditional college student was 
 pale of cheek, with hollow eyes and bent form. 
 He was said to have an intellectual look because 
 the physical had faded and left but the shadow. 
 What was the cause of the evil? Not, usually, 
 overstudy, but the absence of provision for obtain- 
 ing physical vigor. But it is found that scholar- 
 ship does not require the sacrifice of muscular 
 energy. Indeed the best mental results are com- 
 patible only with the strongest physical integrity. 
 The general introduction of athletics into our 
 schools of learning has not, it is believed, de- 
 pressed the mental tone of student life. Nowhere 
 do we find young men with better physical devel- 
 opment than the majority of college graduates. 
 The Senior ought to be, and can be, hardier — hav- 
 ing more of muscular energy — than when a Fresh- 
 man. What is needed in a college graduate is 
 manhood, stalwart in both body and mind. This 
 achieved and the true ideal is realized. But the 
 best results are commonly not fully reached. 
 At present there is danger that some will draw 
 too largely on their physical vitality, and others 
 wholly fail to participate in athletic operations. 
 One class of students is employed in the doing, 
 the rest in looking on. And they who are set 
 to uphold the athletic standing of the institu- 
 tion, not unfrequently, by over-exertion, incur per- 
 sonal harm that entails suffering through Ufa A 
 
 208 
 
CAEE OF THE BODY 
 
 college " Coach " said to the writer that football- 
 ists almost invariably incur some permanent disa- 
 bility. Now arrangements will not be perfect till 
 the entire student body regularly participate in 
 athletic movements. The gymnasium makes pro- 
 vision for this, but its work is usually confined to 
 the winter months. It is of the greatest impor- 
 tance that all the young people of our schools — of 
 higher and lower grade — be supplied with syste- 
 matic physical training, that in youth the sym- 
 metry of the entire person may be secured and 
 thereafter preserved. 
 
 As allied to the foregoing there is the subject of 
 regular — or irregular — personal habits. Young life 
 generally is able to withstand much of physical 
 strain. There is usually a large supply of vitality ; 
 the building-up forces are strong, and they quickly 
 respond to the needs as they arise. Eecuperation 
 readily follows the excessive taxing of the muscles 
 and nerves, and derangement of the powers is 
 ordinarily soon corrected. There is a stock of 
 energy on hand to meet emergencies. We begin 
 life with a large physical capital on which we can 
 draw in the important business of living. But 
 this capital is not inexhaustible, and ought not to 
 be used up more rapidly than is necessary. And 
 it cannot be kept from rapid depletion without 
 rational habits of life. Habits consist of an order, 
 an established uniformity, as we have said, a set- 
 tled trend in living and doing. Eight habits are a 
 
 209 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 safeguard, a right tendency promotive of harmo- 
 nious action. Now these habits ought to be de- 
 veloped in every young man and woman. The 
 exuberance of young life creates an inclination to 
 break away from that which is regular, the step- 
 ping over rational boundaries ; introducing infrac- 
 tion of physical laws. Every violation of nature's 
 requirements brings its penalty. Drawing on our 
 reserves may not immediately produce bankruptcy, 
 but it uses up capital. We pay for all we take. 
 
 Eating at irregular hours, and then between 
 meals ; retiring for rest at ten o'clock, or not till 
 two in the morning; breathing the fetid air of 
 close and crowded apartments; the neglect of fre- 
 quent ablutions; the pampering of the appetite 
 with rich food taken in large quantities — the being 
 governed by inclination, disregarding the nor- 
 mal functions of the body, will be sure to work 
 irreparable injury to the physical manhood. Con- 
 science and common-sense should govern in the 
 care of the body, even as in the great interests of 
 the soul. 
 
 210 
 
BEAIN FOKCES 
 
 OHAPTEE XLVI 
 BRAIN FORCES 
 
 Attention has been called to the fact that the 
 nervous system ramifies throughout the entire 
 body, and sustains important relations with every 
 muscle, bone, and membrane of this organic whole. 
 The brain with the spinal cord as its extension, is 
 the central organ of this system. "The neural 
 matter of the organism in general is of two sorts — 
 the white and gray matter. The white matter is 
 fibrous in structure, even where it lies in masses ; 
 the gray matter is cellular. The nerve-fibres and 
 trunks consist of white matter. The spinal cord 
 and the medulla consist of both — the white outside, 
 the gray within. The cerebellum and the central 
 hemispheres also consist of both, but with them 
 the gray is outside and the white within. The 
 central mass, which presents a number of distinct 
 organs, consists of the two kinds of matter vari- 
 ously intermixed. Apparently the function of the 
 white fibrous matter is to transmit impressions ; 
 that of the gray cellular matter is to receive, trans- 
 form, and emit impressions." (Davis.) Through 
 the gray matter mental functions are performed. 
 
 " The human nerve-centres are surrounded by 
 many dense wrappings, of which the effect is to 
 
 211 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 protect them from the direct action of the forces of 
 the outer world. The hair, the thick skin of the 
 scalp, the skull, and two membranes at least, one of 
 them a tough one, surround the brain; and this 
 organ, moreover, is bathed by a serous fluid, in 
 which it floats suspended." (James.) Equal care 
 is observed in preserving from harm the spinal cord, 
 which extends along a hollow or tube of the verte- 
 brae that comprise the spinal column. These ver- 
 tebrae are articulated so as to produce flexibility — 
 for the bending of the body so necessary for free 
 action. 
 
 The brain is pre-eminently a mind organ. It 
 consists of three lobes, named respectively, the 
 cerebrum, the larger and frontal division of the 
 brain, through which evidently consciousness and 
 will are realized ; the cerebellum, lying underneath 
 the back part of the cerebrum, which conserves 
 combined muscular action ; and the medulla ob- 
 longata, that part of the posterior brain which is 
 connected with the spinal cord and has to do di- 
 rectly with the vital functions of the body. 
 
 As a being capable both of intelligence and loco- 
 motion there is provided for man two sets of 
 nerves, sensory and motor, connecting the brain 
 with the rest of the body. The sensory nerves are 
 nerves through which sensations are produced, and 
 impressions carried to the brain. It is their office 
 to communicate intelligence of the state of the 
 body, and of external objects affecting the body. 
 
 212 
 
BEAIN FORCES 
 
 It is by means of these nerves that sensations of 
 temperature arise in the skin, or pain is experi- 
 enced from a cut or bruise. The special senses of 
 sight, hearing, touch, taste, and smell belong to this 
 class. The motor nerves act in response to the 
 sensory, carrying the mandates of the will. They 
 set the muscles in motion in view of tidings re- 
 ceived. For instance, the ear reports the door-bell 
 ringing, and the brain sends a message, through the 
 motor nerves, to the feet to move to the door, and 
 to the hand to open the door. The eye announces 
 approaching danger, and the brain directs us to 
 repair to a place of safety. Thus we act intelli- 
 gently in regard to the affairs of life. 
 
 It has before been said that on the nerves every 
 part of the body is dependent in its organic life and 
 the performance of its special functions. Not only 
 do the muscles receive impressions through the 
 agency of the sensory nerves and put forth effort 
 by means of the motor nerves, but all waste in the 
 body is repaired and its normal state maintained 
 from nervous stimulation. To be, as well as to 
 feel and act, requires neural influences. In the 
 human personality the nervous system sustains 
 the closest relation to the mind, and is the most 
 vital portion of the bodily organism. 
 
 The body in every part is constantly undergoing 
 change. It will be remembered that growth is not 
 an accumulation of organized matter as a perma- 
 nent deposit, but in the very process of living there 
 
 213 
 
MAN'-BUILDING 
 
 is molecular disintegration of organic structure. 
 That there may be permanency, there must be 
 change ; to live is a process of replacement of the 
 old with the new. As the stream ceases to be a 
 river when the water stops flowing, so the death 
 of the body takes the place of life when normal 
 change comes to an end. The organic becomes 
 inorganic, that the organic may be preserved by a 
 continuous process of building. And to the influ- 
 ences effecting this tearing down and building 
 movement the nervous system is peculiarly sensi- 
 tive, and in this performs a distinct office. 
 
 The brain as the medium or instrument of men- 
 tal operations is an organ of special interest. 
 While the rest of the body undergoes changes de- 
 pendent on physical movements, the brain is sub- 
 ject also to a law of mental activities. It is con- 
 ceded that there are physical equivalents of mental 
 forces, that the consumption of brain material is in 
 proportion to the energy or volume of mental ac- 
 tion through the brain, whether intellectual, emo- 
 tional, or volitional. Every movement in thought 
 or feeling or willing is accompanied by a corre- 
 sponding modification of brain-cells. As brain 
 force is used up — represented by devitalization of 
 cell material — there must be a corresponding pro- 
 duction of brain energy or the tone is lessened. 
 This can only be effected by the consumption of 
 nutritious food. The brain must be fed or it can- 
 not do its work, and if the supply be not main- 
 
 214 
 
BEAIN" FOKCES 
 
 tained, mental ineflficiency follows. Yet excessive 
 eating imposes an undue amount of work on the 
 system, putting a strain on the vital forces, and 
 to that extent making an overdraft on the brain. 
 The mind is dull after a heavy meal because the 
 brain must send an extra amount of assistance 
 to the stomach to ejffect digestion. But, on the 
 other hand, care must be taken that the brain be 
 not robbed by the lack of nutritious food. 
 
 It frequently happens that students in college, by 
 practising great economy, ruin their health. Suffi- 
 cient food, cooked in a way to be most nutritious, 
 is of the first importance. All brain workers need 
 to take pains with their diet. Severe manual la- 
 bor is trying to the body, but not less exhaustive 
 to the system is intense mental work. It makes its 
 draft most directly and exclusively on the nerve 
 forces, which are fundamental, both to physical 
 development and strength ^d to mental achieve- 
 ments. The man who leads t. professional life, or 
 handles large business interests, or carries heavy 
 responsibilities of any kind, should not fail to sup- 
 ply the brain in proper quantity with the nutri- 
 ment needed for its highest efficiency. 
 
 215 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 CHAPTEE XLVII 
 
 DEVELOPMENT IN THE FIELD OF THE 
 PHYSICAL 
 
 When the human body has reached what we 
 designate as maturity it has not, in many respects, 
 come to the limit of its development. While the 
 bony structure has secured its growth, the mus- 
 cles have attained their final length, and the gen- 
 eral contour of the body has come to a state of 
 relative permanency, modifications may yet take 
 place which will have marked influence through 
 the years which follow. Our life, physical as well 
 as mental, never reaches a fixed quantity. The 
 young man at twenty-five years of age who has 
 dwelt within a home of ease and luxury, is but a 
 tender plant compared with the son of toil. The 
 sledge of the blacksmith knots the arm and con- 
 verts the muscles almost into ribs of steel. The 
 athlete gains power to achieve and endure that fills 
 us with amazement. He who is to perform feats 
 that require special physical effort must pass 
 through consecutive training. The need of this is 
 realized in the army, in college sports, in all the 
 movements which put unusual strain on the 
 muscles. While the arm becomes helpless by non- 
 use, it develops extraordinary power by continu- 
 ous and vigorous employment. 
 
 216 
 
^ PHYSIOLOGICAL DEVELOPMENT 
 
 The susceptibility to modification is found in 
 almost every part of the body. Thus there is what 
 is called physical education. The gait, in walking, 
 is acquired. The muscles have been employed in 
 a way to establish a special mode in the move- 
 ment of the body. While this rests back, per- 
 haps, on physical structure, it is largely artificial, 
 produced by the character of employment followed, 
 or is the result of special training. 
 
 Skill in any branch of industry is not a gift of 
 nature but an acquisition through personal train- 
 ing. We do not leave nature wholly out of the 
 account, but we supplement her powers ; we take 
 what she gives us and bring it under control, and 
 fashion it according to our needs. In this way we 
 gain the ability to perform most delicate opera- 
 tions. This holds true in the entire range of the 
 arts. With mental conceptions holding up the 
 ideal, the hand works out the product sought. It 
 acquires facility of operation which becomes a per- 
 manent endowment. 
 
 No child writes a beautiful and regular hand at 
 first ; and though much depends on the tone of 
 the nervous system, yet every individual, by tak- 
 ing pains, can work out any form of penmanship 
 he desires, and make it natural. Nothing shows 
 the pliability of the muscles and their response to 
 ideal conceptions more than the accuracy of touch 
 of the keys of a musical instrument when the hand 
 is not even guided by the eye. Some of our most 
 
 217 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 skilful pianists are blind. The delicacy and pre- 
 cision of movement would be almost beyond belief 
 had not our observation established the fact. The 
 violinist does not specifically and in detail will the 
 vigor of action or the angle of application of force, 
 but the hand under general volitions produces in 
 succession the exact tones he seeks. 
 
 The human voice yields to the guidance given it 
 and there come forth tones of a quality just fitting 
 the sentiment uttered. A trained singer, in the 
 fulness of expression and in the restraint required, 
 charms us as it is impossible for the uncultivated 
 voice to do. The skilful elocutionist has gained 
 the ability to accomplish two results, first to read 
 the actual meaning into the text he renders, and 
 second, to modulate the voice in harmony with the 
 thought delivered or sentiment expressed. The 
 former is mental, the latter is both mental and phys- 
 ical. And it is possible for the training to be so 
 complete that the voice will perform its work with 
 great precision without thinking of the tones which 
 should be uttered. 
 
 Some, if not all, of the senses can have their 
 acuteness increased. The Indian sharpens the 
 sense of hearing by so generally depending on it 
 for the information he needs. He puts his ear to 
 the ground and detects the approach of the enemy 
 though far away and out of sight. Indeed, in his 
 savage state, the ear renders him better service 
 than any other sense. He has no optical instru- 
 
 218 
 
PEESISTENCE OF FOKCES 
 
 ments to reveal objects at a distance, such as civ- 
 ilized people have constructed. Hearing is his 
 special resort. 
 
 With the blind the nerves of the skin become 
 exceedingly sensitive. They gain the ability to 
 detect the presence of objects as they approach 
 them from the resistance of the air. 
 
 The body should have its training school, but 
 not for overtaxing special muscles, of which there 
 is danger. There is a development in strength, in 
 acuteness of perception, in accuracy of execution 
 by the experiences through which we pass. It 
 would be well for us to study the law of physiol- 
 ogy, and submit to training that will bring out, 
 for largest use, the forces implanted in the body. 
 Efficiency would be gained, and our physical being 
 would become a more complete servant of the 
 mind. The body should be kept in health and 
 be made responsive to the demands of the soul in 
 this complex world of matter and spirit. 
 
 CHAPTEE XLVIII 
 
 PERSISTENCE OF DEVELOPED FORCES 
 
 There is a proverb — perhaps not very good 
 English — that runs in this wise, '^Like parent like 
 child." There is much that is mysterious in life, 
 nothing more inscrutable than the operation of the 
 
 219 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 laws of our physical being — involving the mental 
 as well. Accepting the tenet that in the origin of 
 the family of man there is unity, that Adam and 
 Eve were the first pair, and that therefrom has 
 come a race in which exists infinite variety, we 
 find that we are in a field which it is impossible 
 fully to explore. There is every form of diversity 
 among human beings, in size from three feet or 
 less, up to seven or more feet ; in the same family 
 some are tall, others short. The color varies 
 from clear white to jet black, with every conceiva- 
 ble intermediate shade. With some there is a 
 tendency to obesity, while others are but little 
 more than a shadow. In features there is every 
 possible contour of the face. It is very rare indeed 
 that persons look so nearly alike as not to be dis- 
 tinguishable. The full-blooded African is not 
 more unlike the Caucasian in color than in the 
 shape of the nose, the prominence of the lips, and 
 the contour of the forehead. The Negro type is a 
 marked departure from that of the white race, and 
 yet in itself is subject to wide diversity. The same 
 principle holds in all races. 
 
 These differences can proximately be traced to 
 known causes. Races with a black skin have 
 their habitat in the tropics. While historical 
 proof that the dark color is due to the climate of 
 these lands cannot be adduced, as history does 
 not go back to the beginning of things, yet two or 
 three facts cannot be disregarded. The first we 
 
 220 
 
PEKSISTENCE OP FORCES 
 
 mention is that the rays of the sun, especially 
 when accompanied by excessive heat, darken the 
 skin. The white man who for weeks and months 
 lives, on deck, the life of a sailor, receiving as re- 
 flections from the water the rays of light and heat 
 of the sun in large measure, will have all the ex- 
 posed portions of the body darkened. And the 
 longer such exposure continues the more set the 
 color produced. That the dark color should be- 
 come permanent when a race dwells continuously 
 in a land of the brightest sunshine and most glow- 
 ing heat for thousands of years, with the absence 
 of clothing and shelter, especially with habits of 
 uncleanness and gross forms of diet, this it is not 
 unreasonable to expect. The bestiality of life in 
 uncivilized lands is also known to modify the color 
 of the skin. The unwholesome and meagre diet of 
 the poor in our cities makes its mark upon the 
 face in driving away the natural color and the 
 healthy expression which good food and correct 
 habits produce. 
 
 This philosophy of change may, perhaps, be 
 combated by the counter statement that the Ne- 
 gro ought to fade when living in a cooler climate. 
 But if forces of life are awakened and made a dis- 
 tinct physical energy for the production of a dark 
 pigment under the skin, does it follow that these 
 forces must cease to act as soon as conditions are 
 modified ? The difference in climatic power be- 
 tween the tropics and cooler latitudes is in degree 
 
 221 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 only. The forces established may preserve the 
 state induced, requiring much less energy than was 
 necessary for their development. And yet the 
 unlikeness in color may disappear as new con- 
 ditions are in operation through a long period of 
 time — say, some thousands of years. 
 
 This is a problem that cannot be solved by his- 
 torical data, because such data cannot be procured. 
 We can as yet only theorize, we cannot demon- 
 strate. 
 
 We may now remark that all forces or developed 
 conditions tend to fixedness or continuance. In 
 our own being we perpetuate that which has been 
 produced, especially if distinctly marked ; and it 
 is naturally transmitted to our progeny. Modifica- 
 tions come under the laws of life affecting all the 
 processes of physical energy. A person born with 
 club-hands is likely to transmit the deformity to 
 his descendants, for a generation or two at least. 
 Sporadic cases of the abnormal, being in a sense, 
 perhaps, accidental — not growing out of inherited 
 structural conditions — may be evanescent, but 
 they indicate a modified tone, and may persist to 
 some extent. Whether the influences which have 
 the power of direction are external or internal, 
 they organize great lines or types of the human 
 race. 
 
 There are national traits which all observers 
 recognize. To say that such a procedure is just 
 like the French is not to speak in riddles. The 
 
 222 
 
PEESISTENCE OF FOKCES 
 
 sociological characteristics of the French people, 
 on the physical and mental side both, have a 
 special distinctive form. "Polite as a French- 
 man, impulsive as a Frenchman," is not a drawing 
 on the fancy for a comparison, but is the recogni- 
 tion of a standard. To rule France is a problem 
 quite unlike the swaying of the sceptre of govern- 
 ment over the United States. 
 
 The German type is more staid and domestic, 
 perhaps plodding, yet persistent. They are a peo- 
 ple who can work a lifetime to get to the bottom 
 of things. They make good investigators and do 
 not weary in perfecting the arts. 
 
 The Americans are cosmopolitan ; we are a 
 mixture of all races, and hence the channels are 
 not parallel, but flow into each other. Our traits 
 are political, not physical or mental. We rep- 
 resent all lands and hence not distinctively any 
 land. 
 
 The North American Indian is the man of the 
 forest. His bow and arrow, or his gun, is his 
 companion and means of support. He does not 
 build cities, he does not create civilizations, he 
 does not develop the resources of the soil. He 
 cannot brook restraint. The thousands of years 
 in which he has been the hunter in this western 
 world have wrought in his soul a love of the chase 
 and trained the body for the wild habits so diffi- 
 cult to overcome. 
 
 The Negro under the geographical restraints of 
 
 223 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 slavery has become eminently domestic. He has 
 had a natural geographical habitat. Imported 
 from the warm latitudes of Africa, he is at home in 
 our Southern States. He does not take to the 
 chase, he does not incline to overrun these lands 
 of the North. Had not the horrors, or disabilities 
 at least, of slavery driven him from the plantation 
 where he had labored, he probably would rarely 
 be seen in these northern latitudes. Physically 
 and mentally he basks in the sunshine of the 
 southland. 
 
 We know the Chinese wherever we see them. 
 They belong to a period before the Middle Ages, 
 before the beginning of the Christian era. Could 
 they be set back thirty centuries in history they 
 would be perfectly at home, for they stand to-day 
 in the midst of the life and spirit of antiquity. 
 Physically distinct from all other peoples, they 
 mentally and morally belong to the ages of the 
 long ago. 
 
 Something, it thus appears, has broken up the 
 race into sub-races, and established physical and 
 mental traits along national lines, so that to-day 
 the world is far from being a unit. We started 
 one, now we are many. But in the many-sided- 
 ness of the human we see the susceptibility of the 
 man God has made, and the operation of laws 
 which point to a future which we can as yet but 
 imperfectly understand. And while that which is 
 new is constantly developing, it persists as a 
 
 224 
 
HEEEDITY 
 
 moulding power in tlie life of the individual and 
 the race. 
 
 "We will not here study this subject further, as 
 it lies on the border line of the sociological. 
 
 CHAPTER XLIX 
 
 HEREDITY 
 
 The discussions of the preceding chapter natu- 
 rally lead us to consider somewhat specifically the 
 principles or facts of heredity, which is continually 
 introducing new conditions into the midst of the 
 permanency it conserves. It would seem that its 
 purpose, primarily, was to perpetuate, not over- 
 throw; to build up, not to tear down. But as 
 everything which comes into our life becomes a 
 part of it and exerts an influence over that which 
 follows, heredity unceasingly promotes diversity 
 conjointly with permanency. The duality of hu- 
 man parentage introduces complexity into the 
 problem of being. That parents transmit to their 
 children the traits of both father and mother, in 
 varying degrees, all admit. Often we are able very 
 clearly to trace physical characteristics, the features 
 of one parent or the other, the complexion, the 
 color of the eyes or hair, and the general physio- 
 logical appearance, and also mental traits. In the 
 
 225 
 
MAJT-BUILDING 
 
 genesis of life there is traduction. God makes a 
 human being through two other human beings and 
 along the lines of their physical and mental life. 
 And not uncommonly do we find what the parent 
 Avas by the study of the child-life, even better than 
 by observing the parent himself, who may hide 
 that which is special in his nature. Sometimes 
 the traits of each parent are weakened in the child ; 
 in other instances some of the traits of one or the 
 other are intensified, under some law we do not 
 understand. We mention these facts to show the 
 complexity of the problem of heredity, and that 
 there are depths we have not been able as yet to 
 explore. But it is probable that nothing which 
 belongs to the past completely drops out of the 
 energies which have made the present and will 
 make the future. 
 
 There are some very strange things under the 
 law of heredity. That which was marked or notice- 
 able in the ancestry of one individual may not 
 appear again till after two or three generations. 
 While usually the child of parents of whom one 
 was white and the other black will have an inter- 
 mediate color — mulattoes usually are several shades 
 off from pure black — yet not unfrequently there 
 will follow a generation or two of white children, 
 then of black, or the reverse of this order. *' To 
 the third or fourth generation ! " This would 
 seem to show that there are no secrets that can be 
 completely hidden ; vice or wrong-doing may any 
 
HEEEDITY 
 
 day come out into the light. God meant that the 
 book of a human life should never be permanently 
 closed. 
 
 This makes it a very solemn thing to live. The 
 deeds do not end with the doer. We cannot live 
 to self alone. We cannot escape responsibility to 
 the Supreme Being for our acts, and we cannot 
 arrest their going on into the generations which 
 come after us. It is said that under physical laws 
 a word spoken does not stop until the most remote 
 star in the heavens is made to vibrate ; and is it 
 not true that we are to-day what all the ages of the 
 past have made us to be ? 
 
 We inherit both the strength and weakness of 
 our ancestry. Many expressions indicate a con- 
 viction of the truth of this principle. They say to 
 us, " Blood will tell." Such an individual, we are 
 told, comes of a line of long-lived men and women, 
 and hence we gather the meaning that in this case 
 there is strong probability of an extended period 
 of life. " The father and grandfather were brainy 
 men, how could he be other than brainy? " Such 
 a one, we are told, '' had a remarkable mother ; 
 this solves the problem of his greatness." " The 
 blood of the Scotch flows in his veins, he will stand 
 by his convictions." 
 
 It may be true, as physicians tell us, that disease 
 is not inherited. No child is born, it may be, with 
 consumptive germs in his system ; but many are 
 born of consumptive parents with a minimum of 
 
 227 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 power to resist consumption. "While disease may 
 not be transmitted, it is sure to make its ravages. 
 Statistics show that a tendency to vice is transmis- 
 sible. Out from the brothels and haunts of wicked- 
 ness comes forth human life, which, however there- 
 after it is carefully isolated from scenes of evil, 
 manifests a penchant for gross immorality. To have 
 a moral and noble ancestry is a boon of inexpressi- 
 ble value ; to have a degraded ancestry is to have 
 life rotten at the roots. People hesitate to adopt 
 a child into the family without knowledge of its 
 parentage. 
 
 How to check the flow of evil that passes along 
 the channels of the ages, from generation to gen- 
 eration, we do not know. It is a mournful fact 
 that much of human life at its appearance seems 
 weighted for death. Individuals do not enter 
 upon the journey of this earth under equally favor- 
 able conditions. Will Christian civilization find, 
 and be able successfully to handle, forces which 
 will largely neutralize the evils which assault life 
 at its beginning ? That the next generation shall 
 be pure, we need to be pure. That those who 
 follow may have physical health, we need to care 
 for our bodies. That the passions shall not tyran- 
 nize over our descendants, we need in our OAvn per- 
 sons to repress such passions v/ith an iron hand. 
 That our children shall not be born unto the world 
 ready to start down an inclined plane toward ruin, 
 we must develop our own lives up to a state of firm 
 
 228 
 
IMPAIRING THE ENERGIES OF LIFE 
 
 and steady resistance to every onslaught upon our 
 manhood. We draw much of our life from our 
 ancestry ; and we shall live in our descendants. 
 On us rests a fearful weight of responsibility for 
 the world of to-morrow. 
 
 CHAPTEE L 
 IMPAIRING THE ENERGIES OF LIFE 
 
 That from ignorance or thoughtlessness there 
 should, at times, occur a depression of vital forces, 
 a weakening of the tone of the body, need not, per- 
 haps, excite surprise. Our attention has been 
 called to the exceeding delicacy of the nervous 
 system. It is made delicate, because of the deli- 
 cacy of the offices it fills. There is no part of the 
 body more commonly abused than this. 
 
 It is not strange that life is so brief. Rather is 
 it strange that for so long a time it resists the de- 
 structive agencies which are made to act upon it. 
 Should any machine be handled so recklessly, with 
 such slight regard to the laws by which it is gov- 
 erned, it would not run a single day. The Creator 
 has supplied reparative forces which are always in 
 action to restore waste and maintain vital energy. 
 There is a constant battle going on between de- 
 structive forces and constructive energies. Usu- 
 
 229 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 ally the latter are not worsted, if ordinary pru- 
 dence and foresight are observed. But there is an 
 alarming recklessness on the part of many people 
 in the treatment of the body, showing an inappre- 
 ciation of its functions and needs, or else an almost 
 insane surrender to vicious influences. 
 
 The appetite which is provided for the building 
 up of the body becomes, perhaps more than any- 
 thing else, the means of its downfall. As all the 
 operations of our physical and mental nature con- 
 sume bodily structure, effecting waste, the com- 
 plete destruction of being would soon follow, did 
 not new material take the place of that which is 
 removed. This material is supplied through the 
 stomach, and is sought for and taken as a result of 
 nervous craving which we call hunger. It is very 
 evident that the consumption of food could not 
 safely be left solely to the judgment. We might 
 take too much or too little ; take the food when the 
 body did not need it, or omit it when the system 
 required it. Hence the body is made to report its 
 condition, calling for food w^hen it would do good, 
 and rejecting it when it would do harm. Not only 
 are infants and young children dependent on the 
 appetite for guidance — as are also the sick — but 
 persons in mature life and in health. In this we 
 are like the lower animal kingdom. Impulses have 
 been implanted in the body for its healthy normal 
 action. 
 
 The appetites are subject to modification in their 
 
 230 
 
IMPAIEING THE ENEKGIES OF LIFE 
 
 intensity and imperiousness, and somewhat in their 
 direction, through the use to which they are put. 
 That which is ordinarily mild and submissive may 
 become a tyrant. 
 
 There is nothing which displays the abnormal 
 and harmful action of appetite more than the use 
 of alcoholic stimulants. No other page in human 
 history, in any age, is as dark as this. The appe- 
 tite for strong drink has wrought havoc in every 
 land where these stimulants could be obtained. 
 That the body has been at its mercy is a mild 
 statement, when we consider the ravages made. 
 Inebriety completely sets aside the functions of 
 our physical nature, unfitting us for any of the pur- 
 poses for which it was created. It lessens indus- 
 try, arrests the arts, pauperizes the people, intro- 
 duces disease into the system, making loathsome 
 that which was intended to be pure and noble. A 
 drunkard is physically an object of pity. 
 
 Mentally the havoc wrought is even more lam- 
 entable still. The effect of alcohol on the brain 
 not only makes unsteady, even paralyzing the 
 nerves, but renders the brain incapable of mental 
 action. It is more than physical insensibility; 
 there is mental incompetency as well. Eeason 
 vacates her throne, and the blindness of idiocy set- 
 tles down upon the spirit. And when insensibility 
 does not wholly prevail, usually the entire intel- 
 lectual nature is maudlin, is without dignity and 
 power. At the same time every impulse of right- 
 
 231 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 eonsness, every sentiment of honor, all feeling of 
 shame, and the sense of personal responsibility are 
 parted with. The bond of friendship is sure to be 
 broken, love is scattered to the winds, homes are 
 demolished, and the fires of hell are kindled in the 
 very heart of society. An immense majority of 
 crimes comes from the use of strong drink and 
 from temporary insanity which, in many cases, be- 
 comes permanent delirium, till at last Death steps 
 in to claim his victim. The horrors of intemper- 
 ance have never been fully written — they go down 
 too deep into the life to be put on the page. 
 
 We need not stop to enlarge on this dark sub- 
 ject. We remind the reader, however, that there 
 is a wide field closely related to the foregoing, but 
 with somewhat modified action. Physicians tell us 
 that morphine and other narcotics have created an 
 appetite almost as baneful — perhaps equally so — 
 as the appetite for strong drink. Not only does 
 the body come completely under their control, but 
 the moral sense is perverted, conscience loses her 
 power, insincerity rules the life, truth ceases to be 
 sacred, and the very foundations of right give way. 
 
 All admit that tobacco is hurtful to the young. 
 The saliva of the mouth is intended to aid the di- 
 gestion ; and when from chewing tobacco it is ex- 
 pectorated, the stomach is defrauded of what nat- 
 ure supplies, and dyspepsia is likely to follow. 
 The nicotine set free by combustion in smoking 
 is more or less absorbed, and it is a rank poison. 
 
 232 
 
IMPAIRING THE ENERGIES OF LIFE 
 
 The cigarette is a mixture of tobacco with, other 
 substances, usually to a considerable extent injuri- 
 ous. This, young persons seem to prefer, and 
 there is no difference of opinion as to deleterious 
 effects. 
 
 Though the nerves of adults have greater power 
 of resistance and are less sensitive to harmful in- 
 fluences than those of the young, yet in the use of 
 tobacco in any form there is a departure from the 
 higher methods of physical action and life. The 
 stimulation of the nerves should come through the 
 processes of nutrition, not outside of these proc- 
 esses in the form of artificial excitement. That 
 which is permanent must have its source in the 
 constructive operations of the body itself. To 
 deaden the nerves, as in the use of tobacco, is an 
 interference with that which nature has provided, 
 and creates an artificial life. God's plan is better 
 than any departure along the line of personal 
 indulgence. 
 
 All appetites need most rigid control. They 
 serve valuable ends when they are not allowed to 
 assume the mastery. They bring ruin and death 
 when the reins of power are in their hands. There 
 are inclinations which, unduly pampered, become 
 passions ; and they may rage to the complete over- 
 throw of reason, the entire debasement of the hu- 
 man. That which takes its rise in the body and 
 can touch the mental life, should be most carefully 
 watched. He that is wise keeps his body under. 
 
 233 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 CHAPTER LI 
 
 INTERACTION OF MIND AND BODY IN THE 
 SPHERE OF MORALS 
 
 Is tlie problem of tlie moral life a problem of 
 mind or body, or both ? Profane language is an 
 utterance of the lips, and is sometimes employed 
 without any mental intent. But we call it im- 
 moral. A drink of alcoholic stimulants may be 
 taken purely to steady the nerves with no purpose 
 to produce mental results, and we raise the ques- 
 tion of morals. The imagination sweeps out into 
 the field of vice, and lovingly pictures vicious 
 scenes, while neither hand nor foot is raised to en- 
 ter into these scenes; yet an exposure of these 
 thoughts would redden the face with shame. A 
 plan is formed to commit a wrong against society, 
 but fear of detection prevents the execution of the 
 purpose. Is the person guilty or not guilty of im- 
 morality ? 
 
 That is moral in which there is no guilt ; that is 
 immoral in which there is guilt, in which there is 
 that which violates some law intended for the 
 guidance of our lives. Morality embraces the 
 purity and right action of the body, and the right 
 purposes and right action of the soul. 
 
 That the moral does not wholly resolve itself into 
 a physical fact is very plain. Is homicide wrong, 
 
 234 
 
MIND AND BODY IN MOEALS 
 
 is it a crime ? No, you say, when in fighting for 
 your country you slay your enemy in battle ; no, 
 you say, when it is committed in defence of your 
 own life ; no, you say, when it was an accident you 
 could not prevent. Yes, you say, when it was 
 malicious ; yes, when the purpose was to avenge 
 some wrong ; yes, when an accident in which due 
 caution was not observed. Is it wrong to associ- 
 ate with the lower classes ? Yes, when done by 
 choice, from sympathy with their spirit, when the 
 life commingles with their life. No, when it is not 
 their companionship you seek to enjoy, but comes 
 from a purpose to reform and lift up the fallen. A 
 woman may be at the Five Points because she is 
 base, or she may be there because she is pure and 
 wishes to make others pure. 
 
 But in the moral character there is involved 
 largely both body and mind. Each participates in 
 the activities of the other. It is plain that an ex- 
 cessive use of stimulants debases the thoughts and 
 corrupts the imagination. Should it be said that 
 this is due to a deranged condition of the nervous 
 system, which may be characterized as a disease ; 
 that the cause is physical and the effect is physi- 
 cal; it must yet be remembered that brain-cells 
 take part in all movements of the life. The body 
 reaches the mind through these cells, and the mind 
 reacts on the body through the same medium. 
 And we are considering results, not simply the 
 philosophy of being. Every physical state tells on 
 
 235 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 character. Why does the Bible forbid profanity ? 
 Because thought and spirit are crystallized in the 
 words, and through the words they sink into the 
 soul. All forms of appetite and the passions, 
 whatever they may be, have their lodgement in 
 and spring from the body. They do not hide 
 away, and work separately from the soul, but they 
 stimulate thoughts and put wings on the imagina- 
 tion and mould the spirit. The vile words which 
 fall on the outer ear go down into the depths of 
 the inner life. The ribald song is much more than 
 the breath of the lips — it is a power penetrating 
 the very citadel of character, and becomes a part of 
 the being. 
 
 Polished manners are morally wholesome. Cor- 
 rect outward demeanor is a restraint on immoral- 
 ity. Boorish ways create a boorish spirit. To 
 look upon a slugging match is an education for 
 vice. Nothing produces heartlessness more than 
 the public execution of criminals. Familiarity 
 with scenes of vice breeds vice. Vicious practices 
 instil poison into the soul. Yice of every form 
 debases the whole inner being. The passions have 
 their roots in the physical organism, and their in- 
 dulgence, while making their tyranny over the body 
 more absolute, binds the chains of slavery more 
 completely around the spirit. 
 
 Nothing is more wonderful than the response of 
 the physical nature to the excitations of the men- 
 tal. Not only in knowledge does thought find its 
 
 23G 
 
MIND AND BODY IN MOEALS 
 
 object largely in material things, but in the world 
 of morals the inner is realized through the outer. 
 Physical action is both the counterpart and the 
 product of the conceptions and feelings. Anger 
 takes hold upon the voice, causes the heart to 
 beat with violence, and the blood to flow through 
 the arteries and veins like a whirlwind of flame. 
 Moral impurity is physical because it is first men- 
 tal. Adultery is the longing look, the Saviour 
 tells us. Out of the heart proceed, not only evil 
 thoughts, but because evil thoughts are engendered 
 there are " murders, adulteries, fornication and all 
 uncleanness." The body is consumed with lust 
 because the imagination runs wild. He who keeps 
 his thoughts pure, will keep his body pure. To 
 read a vile book is to plunge the body into a mael- 
 strom of pollution ; but the mental association with 
 that which is pure and wholesome in literature is 
 the keeping of poison out of our physical being, is 
 the making of it a holy temple of a stainless soul. 
 
 The responsiveness of the soul and body in the 
 domain of morals is a law of our nature, in which 
 are consequences of the greatest moment. The 
 soul can be corrupted by the body, and the body 
 by the soul. An assault on the correct life of the 
 body is an assault on the spirit. 
 
 Of what, then, does immorality consist ? What 
 and where is the sphere of the moral life ? The 
 moral quality of an act, we are told, inheres in the 
 intention or motive — in the mental state prompt- 
 
 237 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 ing it — and yet the effect may be harmful though 
 the purpose be good, or the result be beneficial 
 though the intention be evil. The motive may 
 have a mental origin, or take its rise from a physi- 
 cal state. Envy, jealousy, destructive ambitions 
 spring into existence from purely mental concep- 
 tions, but they may lead to ibodily acts in the 
 highest degree reprehensible — to the slander of 
 the tongue, or to physical harm maliciously in- 
 flicted. Out from the principles held, or the spirit 
 within, there are sure to flow bodily activities 
 which show the state of the heart, good or bad, 
 and which are the living out in conduct of the 
 moral forces at work in the soul. On the other 
 hand, that which is outward, starting in correct 
 deeds, or in the appetites, the passions, the physi- 
 cal habits, in the scenes and associations in soci- 
 ety, finds its way into the soul to inspire ennobling 
 sentiments on the one hand, or to corrupt the very 
 fountain of character on the other. The bodily 
 energies iire turned into channels, right or wrong, 
 by the mind ; and the mind in turn is wrought upon 
 by the physical activities, and made to be more 
 or less pure or impure. The outer and the inner 
 forces continually react on each other. For cor- 
 rect bodily activity there need to be rational and 
 stainless mental conditions ; and to keep the mind 
 pure, the body must be kept pure. The soul and 
 the body constitute a unit in the moral sphere 
 which can never be dissevered. 
 
PART THIRD 
 
 SOCIOLOGICAL 
 
CHAPTER LII 
 COMMUNITY LIFE 
 
 Man is an indiyidual, but miicli more than an 
 individual. He is a related, dependent, and co- 
 operative individual. He is an integral constitu- 
 ent of a race unit. Any definition of a human 
 being, or treatment of his powers and life, which 
 does not connect him with the race, which does 
 not include a race factor, is radically incomplete. 
 In our being we are joined with others, with 
 all others. Disregarding this fact, our nature is as 
 imperfectly understood as would be that of a tooth 
 in the hands of a chemist — from chemical analysis 
 alone — not taking into account its place and office 
 in the mouth, the plan of being of which it is a 
 part, the purpose which it was intended and fitted 
 to serve in the entire animal economy. A tooth is 
 more than a piece of ivory, and a human being is 
 more than an individual. 
 
 And the law of succession for continuance of the 
 race does not embrace the whole problem. It is 
 true that life must be traced back to Adam in an 
 unbroken line, and that in him is found the root- 
 germ of all nations and tribes, so that there is 
 
 241 
 
MAN-BUILDING ' 
 
 blood relationship througliout the entire human 
 family. But this is not all. In the completeness 
 of our life, in what we receive and what we supply, 
 the multitude about us must be considered. In no 
 other way can we determine what we were intended 
 to be. In the community of being of which we are a 
 part we are different from what we otherwise would 
 be, and much more than we otherwise could be, in 
 an entirely separate physical and mental existence. 
 We shall in a subsequent chapter invite your at- 
 tention to the fact that in the great world of in- 
 dustry the millions are toiling for us. We shall 
 see that because of the unlikeness of climate and 
 diversities of tastes and talents, productions are 
 placed within our reach, which, from personal effort 
 alone, we could not create. For our physical good, 
 the oceans in commerce unite, instead of separat- 
 ing, the continents ; and the arts bring us in touch 
 with each other. Months have shrunk into weeks 
 and days, and the thousands of miles have con- 
 tracted to a narrow span in the interdealings of 
 men. 
 
 The life that is given us has its purpose in the 
 multitudes of people by which we are surrounded. 
 He who does not contribute to the well-being of 
 the human familj^, both loses his opportunity and 
 neglects his duty. He can scarcely justify his 
 right to a place on the earth. Only as he brings 
 something of power rightly used ; only as he pours 
 something of riches into the lap of societj^ is he 
 
 243 
 
COMMUNITY LIFE 
 
 fulfilling a divine purpose. To live in one's self is 
 scarcely to live at all ; for self that does not dis- 
 perse to others for their good, is but little more than 
 a mathematical point, it has no breadth of being. 
 
 To become great and worthy, to reach a high 
 plane of character, there must be community life. 
 Isolation is death. The world is supplied as a 
 sphere for the employment of our better powers, 
 and that for our benefit. He who never pities, 
 who never sympathizes, who is never philan- 
 thropic ; who cherishes no friendships, who never 
 stretches out his hand to relieve suffering, who 
 never loves, whose whole being is self-centred, if 
 not a nonentity, is surely destitute of every virtue. 
 But how can there be sympathy, and friendship, 
 and love, if the life be isolated from others ? To 
 give us, therefore, a sphere for the fullest and rich- 
 est life, that we may grow up into that which is 
 noblest and most heavenly, we are put in the 
 midst of associations with other human beings. 
 To absorb all is to shrivel our nature ; we enlarge 
 only by giving. 
 
 The field of our action, therefore, is the world, 
 not the continental masses ; not this terrestrial 
 sphere simply for development, in large measure, 
 or production of material things. Though busi- 
 ness is involved, compelling labor — making indus- 
 try a necessity — yet a demand is made on us in 
 the higher realm of human forces. There is no 
 ground for the supposition that heaven is a sphere 
 
 243 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 of inaction. To supply no employments it would 
 be wholly unprogressive. In the absence of inter- 
 dependence, with no occasion for mutual service, 
 the heart would part with its most divine forces. 
 God is love, and in His self-sacrificing love for the 
 race, Christ takes hold of man and controls his des- 
 tiny in the giving of Himself to us. There is but 
 one way to grow and become mighty, and that is 
 to care and work for others. Isolated individu- 
 ality would rob us of the only possible sphere of 
 development. And while the Supreme Being has 
 intended that we should help our fellow-men. He 
 has thus provided for the largest unfolding of our 
 powers, the most complete fulness of humanity in 
 us. Our being is linked with others. In a thou- 
 sand ways, and all for our good, we are mutually 
 dependent. Manhood is individuality organized 
 into a universal community life ; still preserving 
 the individual, and perfecting it through relation- 
 ship with the many. 
 
 CHAPTEE LIII 
 
 MARRIAGE 
 
 "It is not good for man to be alone." Mar- 
 riage is of divine appointment. It is a provision 
 for successive and perpetual human life. But 
 its purpose reaches much farther than this; it 
 
 244 
 
MARRIAGE 
 
 looks to the enrichment of our being, the develop- 
 ment of the purest and most elevating forces of the 
 soul. 
 
 The greatest danger which man encounters is 
 that of imperious selfishness. The strength of 
 personality may be said to be in proportion to the 
 might of the will ; yet it ought not to follow that 
 the end be selfish in order to have the power most 
 effective. The executive energy of our nature is 
 an inner power capable of being turned in many 
 different directions. The use to which the will 
 shall be put is not less important than the extent 
 of the energy at command. 
 
 The greatest problem in the ordaining of human 
 life is the harmonizing of will-action. There is 
 decided liability of incessant conflict. This is 
 sure to prevail if life is pure individualism. It 
 can be prevented only by the creation of society 
 in which there is coalescence through some bond 
 of common interests. This begins in marriage. 
 It contains the first and most fundamental social 
 force in the community of the race. It starts in 
 mutual affection, which includes a predisposition 
 to render service, to will and act for the good 
 of another. There is a potency of self-surrender 
 in friendship. It is not difiicult to perform acts 
 of kindness to friends, and when the sentiment is 
 deepened into love it carries with it an impulse 
 to make other than self the object and plans of our 
 good deeds. 
 
 245 
 
MAN-BUILDIXG 
 
 Marriage was instituted as a provision for edu- 
 cation in tlie most vital principles of our being. 
 God desired to people this earth with intelligences 
 who would co-operate with each other in achiev- 
 ing great things. To establish responsibility, from 
 which there could be no escape, he made life in- 
 dividual as to powers ; and in the fact of individ- 
 ualism there are incentives to action. Thus there 
 were created innumerable centres of ambition in 
 which the spirit of effort was sure to be stirred. 
 But if the plan be not carried beyond individual- 
 ism there will not only be lacking coalescence of 
 effort and results, but there will be antagonisms 
 culminating in destructive warrings. Agreement 
 of human wills is an indispensable requisite to 
 general society. Therefore at its very source the 
 Creditor invests life with influences to tone down 
 its acerbities and supplant its selfishness with a 
 holy and ennobling altruism by means of the deep 
 love which leads to marriage, and abides through 
 the years that follow. This is the initial force iu 
 God's sociological plan of government. Even if 
 the race could be perpetuated without marriage, 
 confusion would everywhere prevail, and we could 
 not conceive it possible for civil government to ex- 
 ist. There would be anarchy, with no conserving 
 or pacifying power. 
 
 Again we must remind the reader that life never 
 becomes great without a conviction of personal 
 duties. No human being rises to heights of gran- 
 
 246 
 
MARRIAGE 
 
 denr to whom there has not come a clear con- 
 sciousness and profound feeling of obligation to 
 his fellow-men ; and from marriage comes a scope 
 of practical responsibility the most nearly universal 
 of all the relations we sustain to each other. The 
 bond between husband and wife involves a mutual 
 surrender which entails duties which cannot be 
 honorably or safely set aside. Each is intended 
 to be the centre of the other's thought, the object of 
 the other's care and life. To the extent that all 
 of this is actually realized, there is developed the 
 foundation of the best social condition of which 
 we have any knowledge. The bachelor state is 
 incomplete manhood or womanhood. In marriage 
 responsibility and love act together to establish 
 the best conditions of our nature, to enrich the 
 human soul. 
 
 Marriage is the antecedent condition of the 
 family. *'God setteth the solitary in families." 
 As dependent on the home, consisting of wife and 
 children, there are special interests which must be 
 cared for requiring regular and systematic activity. 
 The physical wants of the home must be supplied. 
 In this we have the ground, if indeed it be not 
 the initial, of material industrj^ The great world of 
 business has its inspiration not deeply in individ- 
 ual wants but in the love that is felt for the family, 
 and the need for their financial support. Without 
 this, every avenue of industry would be practically 
 closed, at least the strongest inducement to labor 
 
 247 
 
MAN-BUILDIXCt 
 
 would cease to exist. Work is primarily a family 
 problem. Inactivity is sure to prevail unless there 
 be a motive for labor, and the most universal motive, 
 and with most persons the strongest motive, is the 
 support and comfort of the home. The labor of 
 the hands, the employment of mental energy in 
 the planning of industries, in the building up of 
 the arts, in larger or smaller enterprises for the 
 creation of capital, in the inventions made, spring 
 principally from the divine relation found in the 
 home circle. The world of industry, as a uni- 
 versal movement, would almost perish were the 
 responsibilities and affections which spring from 
 the fireside eliminated from the problem of life. 
 
 Human affections, like every other force in our 
 nature, must have employment to become a posi- 
 tive quantity. That tender feelings may be aroused 
 there must be relations to call them into existence. 
 Love grows to its fulness in the mother's heart as 
 the infant child lies in maternal arms, and the 
 watch-care over the susceptible years of the new 
 life is a constant and solicitous experience. There 
 is a proverb " that blood is thicker than water." 
 The father feels toward his offspring as he cannot 
 toward any other. The home soil is the richest 
 for the production of all that is kind and human 
 in the soul. That the divine ideal of manhood 
 and womanhood might come nearest to being 
 realized, childhood is made the object, universally, 
 of support, of training, of beneficence, coupled 
 
 248 
 
MAERIAGE 
 
 with a feeling of loving responsibility to rear the 
 young life for happiness and perfection of being. 
 To be the father or mother of a family is to live 
 in a school of personal culture, providing oppor- 
 tunities for self-training found nowhere else. 
 
 Marriage works out the following results. It 
 stimulates and sustains industry, as we have said, 
 through which needed capital is developed and 
 morality conserved. It calls out and intensifies 
 the affections, giving to humanity more of heart, 
 and hence a purer life. It supplies companion- 
 ship through which the demands of our social 
 nature are met. In proportion to the purity and 
 depth of love selfishness is restrained or displaced, 
 and mutual beneficence developed and practised. 
 
 All of this is not realized in every home, and 
 when it fails to be realized the fault is not in the 
 institution of marriage but in the perversity of 
 the human heart. Sometimes there is such a de- 
 cided incompatibility in temperaments and mental 
 tastes that divergence rather than coalescence fol- 
 lows the union which marriage establishes. In 
 other cases there is hard-heartedness instead of 
 tender emotions, cruelty which vents itself when 
 affection should ensure the largest outpouring of 
 kindness. "While in the married state there should 
 be the deepest love, there may be the torments of 
 hell itself. Love turned to hate is tenfold more 
 bitter than when it has started from a neutral 
 plane. 
 
 249 
 
MAX-BUILDIXG 
 
 So potent for good or evil is the marriage re- 
 lation, it should be entered into only with the 
 fullest knowledge of character and disposition by 
 each of the parties ; yet there is nothing else so 
 heedlessly assumed as this. The passions do not 
 count the cost, and love is blind. While it is 
 base to marry without the emotional, reason should 
 still keep her hand on the helm. Love should not 
 usurp the place of sight, but should rather enforce 
 the decrees the judgment has wisely issued. Be 
 thoughtful in choosing a life companion is advice 
 that should not be needed, yet it is too little re- 
 garded. Not cold and calculating but with feel- 
 ings of deepest interest, do not close your eyes to 
 facts of character, of disposition, or any personal 
 traits. Marriage is not likely to correct evils. 
 Accept no promise made previous to marriage of 
 change of habits after marriage. He who adheres 
 to vicious habits during courtship will not aban- 
 don them after courtship is over and marriage has 
 been consummated. 
 
 Affection cannot be preserved between husband 
 and wife when either is careless of the feelings of 
 the other. This fact is too commonly disregarded. 
 Happiness can be retained only as the spirit of 
 courtship is retained after the marriage bond has 
 been imposed. A woman is as much a person, 
 with individual feelings, after marriage as before. 
 Inattention, personal slights, the lack of courtesy, 
 wound not less certainly than previous to the 
 
 250 
 
CHILDHOOD 
 
 union effected. He is an unworthy Iinsband who 
 treats his wife with less deference than other 
 women whom he meets in social life. A harsh 
 word, a depreciating word, the failure to show a 
 recognition of kindly acts done, is full of poison. 
 And the wife who is insensible to the struggles 
 through which her husband passes in his business; 
 who treats him coolly when he returns to his home 
 at night ; who saves her smiles for others, whether 
 men or women, is sowing seed that will become 
 thistles in her pathway in after years. There are 
 many women who prize their husband's business 
 efforts only as they afford means for personal 
 adornment or indulgence. Such fruit is sure to 
 turn to ashes. Mutual confidence, mutual appre- 
 ciation, and mutual helpfulness will bring a per- 
 petual harvest of joy; but neglect — selfish inatten- 
 tion — is certain to blight the harvest which should 
 be a constant delight to the soul. 
 
 CHAPTER LIV 
 
 CHILDHOOD 
 
 Infancy is mental vacuity. Human life makes 
 its appearance wholly destitute of intellectual con- 
 tent. And not only is there the absence of all 
 knowledge, but also of the power of knowing. 
 
 251 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 Mind potentiality is a substantial foundation of 
 powers and ideas, but at first there are neither 
 ideas nor powers. Both must be wrought out to 
 the actual from a fundamental provision made 
 therefor. This we have already discussed. 
 
 The life of the infant looking toward the future 
 is wholly in the hands of another. Alone, he 
 perishes ; to live or develop he must be cared for 
 and guided by some life not his own. It is a 
 problem in sociology. 
 
 The function of childhood is growth. In this it 
 fulfils its mission. To be is not the end of ex- 
 istence ; in its purpose there must be the realiza- 
 tion of good through development of energies with 
 which we are potentially endowed. To secure this 
 the beginnings of life are committed to those who 
 feel the greatest solicitude for the child's well- 
 being. 
 
 It is the natural office of the parent to provide 
 for all the wants of the child. That the physical 
 needs are thus to be supplied, everybody knows. 
 There is no civilization so low, no condition so 
 debased, as to lose sight of this as a common duty. 
 And that it be not neglected there is a parental 
 instinct impelling to the discharge of this sacred 
 trust. He is an unnatural parent who does not 
 supply the child with shelter, food, clothing, and 
 every physical comfort, that health and strength 
 be secured. 
 
 But matured bodily powders are by no means the 
 
 252 
 
CHILDHOOD 
 
 totality of good. There are interests of greater 
 moment than these. Nothing is so marked in 
 child -life as the feebleness of its beginnings. 
 Physically without the least power to help itself 
 it is also destitute of even the slightest mental 
 capability to provide for its wants. This is fol- 
 lowed by what may seem to be an extraordinarily 
 long period of mental and physical immaturity. 
 Is this a calamity ? Would we be better off if the 
 feebleness of our early days were more rapidly 
 overcome? In considering this question we must 
 keep before us the fact that in the harmony of 
 the body and mind the latter is the chief part of 
 our being, and that the former is of special value 
 only as used and guided by the latter. The prob- 
 lem of development, therefore, to which all else is 
 subordinate, is the growth of the mental, and its 
 training for the best and highest destiny. 
 
 The securing of this result depends on the wis- 
 dom which others can supply. Could the new- 
 born being rush into business and take upon itself 
 responsibilities with a period of preparation no 
 longer than the horse requires to gain its full 
 strength, life would certainly be a failure. Man- 
 hood means immeasurably more than the matured 
 life of the animal. Bodily he is capable of filling 
 a far higher sphere. To gain the skill in the 
 various arts to which so many have attained, there 
 is needed a long period of bodily plasticity, a plas- 
 ticity which continues during the first score of 
 
 253 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 years, or more. This, for instance, is the most 
 favorable time to practise penmanship, to acquire 
 piano technique, to lay the foundation of manual 
 skill in any of the fine arts, and for all delicate 
 execution on the higher plane of industry. To 
 shorten the time from birth to manhood to five, or 
 even ten years, would physically restrict the powers 
 we possess, would bring the race down to a much 
 lower level than it is now capable of occupying. 
 It is evidently true also that the brain is more 
 responsive to mental impressions in youth than 
 in after years. To defer the entering upon student 
 life until in the twenties or thirties is not only a 
 loss of time but the sacrifice of power. The child 
 can learn to read more quickly than the man of 
 fifty. We say to the boy, begin the study of Latin 
 now, do not wait till you are a man. Under fifteen 
 is a much more favorable time than after twenty- 
 five. There is this brain plasticity in childhood 
 and youth which subsequent years do not possess, 
 for the making of nice distinctions; for gaining a 
 knowledge of words ; for rapidly extending one's 
 vocabulary; for securing impressions which do 
 not easily fade from the memory. Youth is the 
 heyday of teaching for him who looks for the 
 largest results in the training for intellectual 
 manhood. 
 
 No one will dispute the proposition that the 
 mental and moral powers of life are of supreme 
 importance. To occupy an exalted position in 
 
 254 
 
CHILDHOOD 
 
 tlie world ; to possess qualifications by which ser- 
 vice may be rendered to society and the state so 
 as to contribute to the triumph of right and the 
 well-being of humanity, this is the most important 
 of all. In creating the individual and subjecting 
 him to the conditions which exist among men, 
 making him a constituent of the race, God intended 
 him to fit into society for his own, and society's 
 good. With this end in view he has made child- 
 hood and youth an apprenticeship for the public, 
 to gain a training for citizenship, to acquire a char- 
 acter that will contribute something to the har- 
 mony of the community and the stability of the 
 state. Hence at the first the child is put under 
 authority. The lesson of subjection is one of the 
 first lessons to be learned. He is not at liberty to 
 proceed as though free from allegiance to others. 
 When he grows to be a man he will find that the 
 country possesses statehood ; that people are or- 
 ganized under governments; that government 
 means power maintained by law, and that every 
 citizen is subject to law which exacts obedience. 
 
 The first experience of the child is that of sub- 
 jection to the complete control of another. The 
 word of the mother, the command of the father, is 
 absolute. For years there is no ground of con- 
 troversy. For a time there is no explanation of 
 the orders given. Submission must follow, even 
 though it be a sore trial. After a time explana- 
 tions may accompany the requirements, but with- 
 
 255 
 
MAJT-BUILDING 
 
 out a surrender of the right of control. The thing 
 most needful for the child is that the will shall not 
 be lawless, that it shall gain the habit of doing 
 what is rightfully demanded. We speak of it as 
 a habit of submission to legitimate and rational 
 jurisdiction. This being established, it has become 
 natural to be a law-abiding citizen. Unrestrained 
 recklessness in childhood and youth makes crimi- 
 nals in after j^ears. Juvenile offenders consist 
 largely of those who have no homes, or, if homes, 
 such as are vicious and lawless. The start crime- 
 ward during impressionable years eventuates in 
 confirmed law-breaking as time passes by. 
 
 There is nothing so fortunate for a child as to 
 belong to a wise and loving home. We employ 
 the word " loving," for no home is wise that is not 
 loving. To crush the will of a child by cruelty 
 may secure obedience, but in the overthrow of in- 
 cipient manhood the groundwork of a noble life is 
 destroyed. The divine plan is that control should 
 be suffused with a loving interest in the subject 
 under control. Hence parental supervision was 
 ordained as provided for by marriage and result- 
 ing family life. The innumerable centres of family 
 life throughout the countrj^ or the world, in which 
 submission to law is taught and enforced, prepare 
 the way for harmonious statehood as a feasible 
 and permanent institution. Government thus is 
 effective in the conservation and prevalence of 
 needed authority. 
 
 256 
 
CHILDHOOD 
 
 Childhood is the crucial period of life ; thongh 
 so largely dependent on others, in it destinies are 
 determined. Nothing has been more truthfully 
 said than that " the child is father of the man." 
 And young life is what the parent makes it to be, 
 or permits it to be. Native talents and tempera- 
 ment are inherited, but what shall come from these 
 is largely determined by the associations, the 
 spirit and movements of the home. The mother 
 who for years commits the destiny of her child 
 to a nurse, exercising no personal oversight, sins 
 against both nature and Providence ; she is dere- 
 lict in the discharge of her first and greatest re- 
 sponsibilities. The father who is too busy to 
 mingle with his family ; too engrossed to fondle 
 childhood and give attention to questions that 
 arise in the minds of the youth of his household, 
 neglects the highest privileges that can come to 
 him, and fails to perform his most sacred duties. 
 To accumulate money, to gain political distinction, 
 to enjoy the associations of club-life, to pursue the 
 leadings of ambition in any form, cannot be a suf- 
 ficient reason for failing to come into the closest 
 relations with the childhood of the home. And 
 the mother who cares more for fashionable society 
 than the companionship of her children, lives un- 
 der the sway of perverted powers, and can never 
 attain to the highest purpose of her being. God 
 meant that in every way the parent should be a 
 blessing to the child, and the child hence a com- 
 
 257 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 fort and blessing to the parent. The good may 
 and should be reciprocal. Innate capabilities are 
 brought out into results under the sociological in- 
 fluences which encompass the life of the child. 
 
 CHAPTEE LV 
 
 SCHOOL-TRAINING- 
 
 In all civilized lands we find organized provi- 
 sion for instruction of childhood and youth. Only 
 to a very limited extent can training in scholar- 
 ship be prosecuted as a part of family life. The 
 time of the father is consumed in labor to provide 
 means of support, and to the mother come the ex- 
 acting cares of the household, leaving but little 
 opportunity for systematic guidance in mental 
 pursuits. And both in scholarship and in skill 
 for imparting instruction there is nearly universal 
 incompetence among parents for the w^ork of su- 
 pervising the studies of their children beyond that 
 which is strictly elementary. For advanced schol- 
 arship, for progressive civilization, processes of 
 education must be carried forward outside of the 
 home, and by agencies wdiich the home does not 
 supply. So important is this, that the people re- 
 gard it as a function of statehood to set in opera- 
 tion means for the education of the young. 
 
 258 
 
scHooL-TEAmma 
 
 In this country we have a state system which we 
 call the public schools, containing, in many of the 
 commonwealths, a mandatory requirement of at- 
 tendance. We have a right to institute these 
 schools and put the young in them because, with- 
 out intelligence, a free and stable government is an 
 impossibility. Not only is it cheaper to educate 
 the people than to defend the public against the 
 evils of general ignorance ; but the state would be 
 derelict did she not provide for intelligent citizen- 
 ship so as to secure prosperity and perpetuity. 
 It is not drawing on the imagination to say that 
 the common schools are the corner-stone of our 
 republic. Whatever else we give up these must 
 not be surrendered for any reason whatever. In 
 considering the social forces which operate on the 
 individual, and through the individual shape the 
 destiny of the nation, a large place must be given 
 to public education. 
 
 But if it could be done, would it not be better to 
 educate each child alone instead of massing the 
 young in schools? This question may not be 
 passed by without thoughtful consideration. It is 
 true that different young persons because of un- 
 likeness of tastes, of talents, and of temperament, 
 need different treatment. School -methods are 
 defective so far as all are handled in disregard of 
 these primary diversities. The wise parent studies 
 the peculiarities of his children and varies his 
 methods of government accordingly. There is 
 
 259 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 danger that individual traits shall fail to be noted 
 or given their full weight in our schools. The 
 teacher who does not appreciate these personal 
 elements, or does not seek to adapt his methods 
 to special needs, should not be in the school-room. 
 And it is not desirable that all child-life be re- 
 duced to the same dead level. To the extent — and 
 we think there is this tendency — that the public- 
 school procedure secures this uniform condition, 
 it is productive of harm. One young person enters 
 the school with a livelier imagination than another ; 
 some are able to grasp the abstract principles of 
 mathematics far above the average of the pupils ; 
 while there are those who link their thoughts to- 
 gether in logical relations, with whom learning 
 and thinking must be on the line of antecedence 
 and sequence. He who fashions the human mind 
 has made each for a special purpose, for which 
 purpose he should be trained. At the close of 
 school-days they should all come forth with intel- 
 lectual peculiarities not less marked than at the 
 beginning. Life should be built up according to 
 the forces which nature supplies. 
 
 Conceding the foregoing, and emphasizing, 
 indeed, the foregoing, it yet would be a calamity, 
 for sociological reasons, to disband the schools and 
 substitute individualism therefor. The observa- 
 tions of the writer correspond, we believe, with 
 those of other teachers, that the work done in va- 
 cation, making up work alone, is seldom, if ever, 
 
 2G0 
 
SCHOOL-TRAINING 
 
 as broad and thorough as the actual class work. 
 This is true even when pursuing somewhat ad- 
 vanced studies, after the student has had con- 
 siderable class drill, and has reached a plane of 
 high mental discipline. On a lower plane the 
 work is sure to be very poorly done. The reasons 
 are apparent. With a proper freedom of instruc- 
 tion in a class of a score of persons, many inquiries 
 will be started by one and another, which would 
 not arise to the mind of the individual alone. 
 This broadens the subject under consideration, it 
 leads to discussion, it widens the range of instruc- 
 tion, it therefore results in more complete scholar- 
 ship. A comparison of views in the class corrects 
 errors, secures accuracy, and leads to a fuller 
 understanding of the theme engaging attention. 
 Thus the knowledge of each comes to be nearly 
 equal to the knowledge of the whole class. 
 
 In private study there is lacking, also, another 
 important factor, the expressing in words the truths 
 apprehended. The effort to formulate principles 
 or state facts clarifies the mental vision, gives a 
 consciousness of ignorance so far as it exists, in- 
 tensifies the gaze, and hence supplies a more com- 
 plete mastery over the subject. Scarcely less val- 
 uable than the instruction of the teacher is the 
 recitation by the pupil when he persists till he 
 has made a satisfactory presentation of the truth 
 he is handling. We have seen marked defects in 
 college in the mental workings of students who 
 
 261 
 
ilAX-BUILDIXG 
 
 made their preparation at home. Largely they 
 showed a lack of power for free and accurate state- 
 ment in connection with which there is more or 
 less inaccuracy of knowledge. Bat after a student 
 has passed through college and enjoyed the ad- 
 vantage of daily discussion ; after he has laid the 
 foundation for scholarship of a high grade by this 
 rational method, he is supposed to have acquired 
 a habit of exhaustive study as a preparation for in- 
 dividual research in the profession or vocation in 
 which alone he must carve out his destiny. He 
 should then be able to do personal work and use 
 his acquisitions to the best advantage in the great 
 battle of life as he measures arms with others. 
 
 Another fact that may be mentioned in this con- 
 nection has considerable force. In the putting 
 forth of effort we are influenced by the presence 
 and observation of others. Paul appeals to this 
 principle as a stimulating energy in the religious 
 life when he says, " Seeing we are compassed about 
 with so great a cloud of witnesses — let us run with 
 patience the race that is set before us." There 
 is inspiration coming from the gaze of others. 
 Whether the love of approbation leads us or the 
 dread of disapprobation drives us, we do our best 
 w^lien in the eye of the public. We prize the good 
 opinion of others. Most students do not like to 
 fail in the presence of the class. If this feeling 
 does not secure study, nothing will. 
 
 The period of school-days is potent in determin- 
 
 262 
 
 I 
 
SCHOOL-TEAINING 
 
 ing character and deciding destinies. It is the 
 time when youth moves on toward manhood, when 
 foundations are laid for the future ; when habits 
 are gained which are likely to be perpetual. It is 
 the seed-time which is sure to be followed by a 
 harvest. Thorough mental cultivation brings a 
 harvest both valuable and abundant. Wasted 
 hours are followed by meagre results. In man- 
 building this is the period around which gather 
 our most important and vital interests. Trends 
 are established along which we move to success 
 or failure. 
 
 Two things are worthy of special mention. One 
 is, that the interests of the public demand that 
 much pains be taken to give to our schools, whether 
 under control of the State, the Church, or of pri- 
 vate parties, the highest grade of merit. Every- 
 thing else, almost, should be made secondary to 
 this. The young are a priceless heritage of life. 
 It is not railroads, manufactories, and vast landed 
 estates that make a nation, but the men and women. 
 Civilization is a problem of brains and character, 
 not of dollars and cents. Our supreme duty is to 
 care for our children. The best of teachers — men 
 and women of scholarship, irreproachable morals, 
 and love for the young — should be employed, even 
 though school-taxes must be increased. School- 
 work is leadership more than didactic teaching. 
 And with intellectual qualities of a high grade, 
 and scholarship in which there is a mastery of the 
 
 263 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 brandies taught, there is needed also a purity and 
 nobility of life that the teacher may Avin the pupils 
 into paths of virtue and noble living. It is asking 
 much to require that the parent put his son or 
 daughter under the daily supervision and influence 
 of someone outside of the family, where impres- 
 sions are sure to be made that will affect the char- 
 acter through all future time. 
 
 The other point to which attention should be 
 called is the need of appreciation, on the part of 
 the pupil, of the privileges enjoyed. The value of 
 the benefits of study is not so easily discerned as 
 of material rewards. At that age a hundred dol- 
 lars seems larger than the benefits of a school- 
 year. Knowledge is impalpable ; the bearing of 
 school-days on future good does not stand out so 
 plainly to the sight as do farms, merchandise, and 
 bank-stocks gained by labor. School-w^ork, there- 
 fore, often seems a hardship, without definite re- 
 ward, and the hours are frequently spent in list- 
 lessness, no achievements being made. Hence with 
 wasted years manhood does not become a grand 
 possession of power. Choosing the most intelli- 
 gent and moral associations in the school, and 
 bending the mind to the task of mastering the 
 subjects of study, realizing how much the future 
 must be the product of the present, the passing 
 years will bring forth wonderful fruitage of good. 
 School-training is a large factor in man-building. 
 
 264 
 
EDUCATION BY CONTACT 
 
 CHAPTEE LVI 
 EDUCATION BY CONTACT 
 
 It is not easy, if, indeed, it is ever possible, to 
 trace the education of the life to all the sources 
 from which it comes. The threads of influence 
 are innumerable, and they are so intertwined that 
 they cannot be unravelled. The schools have not 
 a monopoly of educational work. They are a 
 special agency for the promotion of what we tech- 
 nically call scholarship ; but outside of them, as 
 well as within them, there are trains of influences 
 which specially affect the mental life and direct 
 its powers. Society, using the word as standing 
 for human beings in direct and practical relations 
 with each other, is itself a universal school of 
 which organized provision for teaching the young 
 is but a small part. There are a thousand ways 
 of gaining information, a thousand subjects en- 
 listing attention, and the kinds of mental and 
 moral products resulting therefrom are without 
 number. 
 
 We live in communities. These communities 
 consist of individuals of every grade of intelligence, 
 of unlike personal habits, of opposite or divergent 
 views relating to business, to politics, to religion, 
 concerning both time and eternity. The forms of 
 
 265 
 
MAX-BUILDING 
 
 industry are diverse, the ambitions and amuse- 
 ments lead in different directions ; life is as motley 
 as Joseph's coat of many colors. There are noble 
 men and women ; there are those who are base, 
 foul of mouth, and sunken in iniquity. Some in- 
 dustries are legitimate, and then there are indus- 
 tries fitted to corrupt all the fountains of being. 
 There is the realm of virtue, and there is the foul 
 breath of the pit. To walk upon the street is to 
 come in contact with life or death. Political 
 parties spring into existence ; the nation is stirred 
 from centre to circumference with appeals that are 
 patriotic, or, perhaps, born of greed or lust of 
 power. The church points toward heaven, and 
 the saloon seeks to drag down into hell. No 
 spot can be found where virtue holds undisputed 
 sway, and we are glad to know that there is no 
 place so vile but that right and truth there lift up 
 their voice of warning and hope. How to shun 
 the evil and gather in the good is a question not 
 always easy to answer. In coming into such a 
 world as this the child plunges into the midst of 
 dangers innumerable ; but yet there are paths 
 which lead into realms of safety, and where flow- 
 ers of virtue perpetually bloom. 
 
 ** No one can touch pitch without being defiled." 
 To come into contact with that which is evil is to 
 feel its power. Picturing vice in order to show 
 its deformity does not drive toward virtue, but 
 rather whets the appetite for the unwholesome 
 
 266 
 
EDUCATION BY CONTACT 
 
 food. Tlie drunkard's reeling on the street does 
 not reform the onlooker, but tends to debase the 
 moral sense of the community. Vice does not re- 
 act for the exaltation of virtue. You can convert 
 sugar into vinegar but you cannot convert vinegar 
 into sugar. Virtue may make a misstep and be- 
 come vice, but vice never makes a misstep so as to 
 become virtue. Familiarity with vice breeds evil 
 and evil only. The terrible associations in the 
 world of the lost will not work a change for the 
 better. Strange as it may seem, the abhorrent 
 qualities of the wicked do not repel, but stir into 
 action an attractive force, or instil poison into the 
 soul. 
 
 The public-school system of a people and its 
 civilization are not synonymous terms. The act- 
 ual life of a nation is much more than the instruc- 
 tion given to the youth in the school-room. It is 
 not the teaching of arithmetic, grammar, algebra, 
 Latin, history, or even civil government, that 
 makes the character of the people — making it noble 
 or ignoble, settling the question of freedom and 
 the type of personal and community life. School- 
 work enters into civilization, but it is by no means 
 the whole of it. The branches taught in our Amer- 
 ican schools would not make Americans of the 
 Spaniards. They are w^hat they are because of 
 the experience of the past, their theological creeds, 
 their national aims, the wars they have fought, the 
 forms of industry prosecuted, and their relations 
 
 267 
 
MAN-BUILDIJ^G 
 
 to other nations on the great battle-field of history. 
 Even their jurisprudence does not come from their 
 schools but from their hot-headed temperament 
 acted upon by, and acting through, their special 
 environment. 
 
 Something more would be needed than our 
 school - system to give to the aborigines of this 
 country our American spirit. In part our civiliza- 
 tion has been imported, in part it is the outgrowth 
 of our industrial and moral life. Not only do the 
 traditions and inherited spirit of the Indian make 
 him what he now is, but everything upon which 
 he gazes, the unrestrained freedom of the forest, 
 his conception of the degradation of labor, his 
 notion of the inferiority of woman — all that enters 
 into the workings of his mental being, with his 
 notions of honor and his conceptions of right. 
 With him liberty is not the absence of restraint 
 upon duty and justice, but it is freedom from re- 
 sponsibility to others. He conceives the individ- 
 ual to be most nearly free whose will is uncurbed. 
 
 It is evident that that which is outside of the 
 school-room may bear on human destiny not less 
 vitally than the instructions imparted therein. 
 Saloons lining the streets, though not entered by 
 the growing boy, tell him a tale which makes him 
 familiar with vice. The profane word which he 
 hears, though not at first spoken by his own lips, 
 dispels the feeling of the wickedness of impiet3^ 
 The ribald song which falls on his ears opens to 
 
 268 
 
EDUCATION BY CONTACT 
 
 the imagination the avenues of vice. The father, 
 the older brother, the business man, puffing a cigar 
 is an allurement toward this baneful habit. Fash- 
 ion has entrapped many a young woman and dis- 
 pelled all thought of duty and a useful life. 
 
 On the other hand the temple of Christian wor- 
 ship calls to mind the Supreme Euler of all things, 
 making its appeals, though mute, in behalf of a 
 life of submission to divine law, and of reverence 
 for that Infinite Majesty in Whom is perfection of 
 power, of wisdom, of justice, and of love. That 
 community is outwardly best ordered that removes 
 from sight, hearing, and taste everything which 
 suggests vicious thoughts, which inflames and 
 taints the imagination, or opens the way for the 
 formation of degrading habits. It is sad that 
 childhood and youth should be assailed on every 
 hand by scenes which poison the mind and draw 
 into paths that lead to ruin. And yet there is 
 reason for much rejoicing that the public con- 
 science is becoming awakened to a realization of 
 responsibility to purify the fountains of govern- 
 ment, to banish that which is vicious from our 
 streets, and surround our homes with what has less 
 of peril for the young. 
 
 But there is a false philosophy which lessens 
 the care that should be exercised. It is assumed 
 that not only is youth the time, in its exuberance, 
 in which much of that which strict principles of 
 morality oannot endorse, is often practised, but 
 
 269 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 that this will naturally end when manhood is 
 reached. *' Oh, he is sowing his wild oats just 
 now, he will come out all right ! " Was there ever 
 a more dangerous delusion ? " The appetite for 
 strong drink fade away?" "Corrupting habits be- 
 come virtues? " This is the voice of folly and allures 
 along the way that leads to ruin. Nothing retains 
 its vitality more than the seeds of an evil life. A 
 certain harvest ? Yes, and a perpetually renewed 
 harvest ; to the end manhood carries the curses 
 which youth has implanted in both body and soul. 
 
 The beginnings of evil make their appearance 
 in youth and generally become more rank as the 
 years multiply. Should they be repressed, under 
 a conviction of their folly, they still cling to the 
 life, rankling within. The home that is pure saves 
 from a thousand snares ; but a corrupt home is 
 just at the entrance to the chamber of death. A 
 community from which the pitfalls of vice are ban- 
 ished throws a safeguard around the young, while 
 the places where corrupting influences abound are 
 filling moral graveyards with the lost. 
 
 Wisdom lifts up her voice and cries out to every 
 young person : ^' Shun the paths which lead away 
 from virtue. Go not along with evil-doers. Scorn 
 depraved companionship. Drink not at corrupt 
 fountains. Sow not the seed of folly and vice, for 
 the harvest is certain." The learning of the schools 
 will be powerless to ennoble the life when the 
 steps take hold on death. . 
 
 270 
 
THE FEINTED PAGE 
 
 CHAPTEE LVII 
 THE PRINTED PAGE 
 
 It was evidently the divine purpose to make 
 this earth socially a unit, so that the pulse of 
 each land should beat for all lands, the good any- 
 where developed becoming the common heritage 
 of mankind. Isolation is repression ; prison walls, 
 whether made of stone or consisting of mental re- 
 strictions because of the absence of lines of com- 
 munication, break society into fragments and ar- 
 rest progress. We need to draw our mental 
 supplies from every quarter of the globe and from 
 every period of time. The blow we strike should 
 be felt in every country ; and the reverberations 
 from the struggles and hopes, the successes, the 
 triumphs and even the failures, on all the con- 
 tinents and islands where man dwells, should make 
 their impressions on our hearts and lives. 
 
 The contact of one life Avith another is sure to 
 modify the character. That boy is fortunate who 
 has a wise and upright father ; and a vicious par- 
 ent, with almost absolute certainty drags his son 
 downward into evil. Intimate companionship 
 tends to unity in thought, feeling, and purpose. 
 In many respects there is sure to be a mental fam- 
 ily likeness in the home, not simply from inheri- 
 
 271 
 
ma:^t-biiilding 
 
 tance of traits, but from the constant interchange 
 of thought and sentiment. In politics the son is 
 most likely to see things as his father sees them. 
 And the type of family life when the home is 
 isolated from all other homes, is built np from 
 within, is wrought out by these limited associa- 
 tions, and is, it may be, in marked contrast with 
 the spirit prevailing outside of the family circle ; 
 but as neighborhood life is introduced, and more 
 and more widely prevails, local unlikeness disap- 
 pears, each individual and family contributes to, 
 and receives from the others, through the exten- 
 sion of sociological forces brought into operation. 
 More widely still do these modifying influences 
 extend as the neighborhood expands to the state 
 and the state to the continent and on to the vast 
 world of being. 
 
 No one in studying sociological forces could fail 
 to find a large place for the printed page. It is 
 evident that the art of printing has completely 
 revolutionized society. This, history shows. The 
 world with the printing press is wholly different 
 from the world without it. Eliminate from the 
 life of to-day our reading matter and there would 
 be taken out of experience, in full or in part, al- 
 most everything which characterizes our civiliza- 
 tion, which shapes the policy of government, 
 which arms the church with power, which guides 
 the industries of the continents, and gives to each 
 one of us a world-citizenship. Whether for good 
 
 272 
 
THE FEINTED PAGE 
 
 or evil we are in touch with each other through the 
 press. Heart speaks to heart and thoughts become 
 cosmopolitan. That is most broadly sociological 
 which puts people most widely into communica- 
 tion, which most completely in thought abolishes 
 latitude and longitude, and brings all the ages into 
 communion. This the press accomplishes for us. 
 It gives to the past a voice for our instruction and 
 guidance. It preserves both the good and the 
 bad of successive ages. It weaves the mental 
 work of all lands and periods of time into the warp 
 of human life so that it shall not perish. And in 
 the working out of world-problems through the 
 press every country is takiog part in the move- 
 ments which tear down and build up and which 
 are making history. London is to-day talking 
 with New York ; Berlin and Vienna hold converse 
 with each other; Paris and St. Petersburg ex- 
 change views ; America and the Old World discuss 
 great questions of finance, of tariff, of different 
 forms of industry and the policy of governments. 
 Congress, the British Parliament, the French as- 
 sembly, the German Bundesrath, and the Eussian 
 Czar cannot rule in secret. Governments and the 
 people of all lands hear the heart-beats which 
 thunder along the columns of the printed page ; 
 restraint is put upon power, and world-politics are 
 shaped through the influences thus exerted. 
 
 The monarchies of Europe would have been 
 much less disturbed by the establishing of our re- 
 
 273 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 publican form of government could the printing- 
 press have been silenced. Despotism fears the 
 printed sheet more than everything else. The 
 censorship of the press in despotic lands throttles 
 free speech, almost completely withholding intelli- 
 gence. Before our Civil War every effort was made 
 to shut out from the South the broad discussions 
 of human liberty, even preventing the teaching of 
 the colored man to read lest he break his chains. 
 Civil rights can be fully guaranteed and main- 
 tained only by the largest freedom of the press, 
 with no restraints other than moral restraints. 
 
 But the press should not be lawless any more 
 than any other agency of power. Nothing can do 
 more harm. Its evil effects are more permanent 
 and destructive than the utterances of the lips. A 
 libel — a printed slander — is rightly punished with 
 more severity than damaging speech. There is 
 no more important problem than the proper hand- 
 ling of the press. So great, so pervasive is its 
 power ; so largely are the destinies of individuals 
 and nations in its hands, that we may well look upon 
 it with interest and, perhaps, with alarm. We are 
 accustomed to say that illiteracy, in its exclusion 
 of intelligence, is, when it exists, a menace to the 
 state as well as an individual disability. That it 
 can largely prevail in this country is scarcely pos- 
 sible. This is a reading age. The child that does 
 not learn to read must be isolated from the influ- 
 ences which almost universally work for intelli- 
 
 274 
 
THE PRINTED PAGE 
 
 gence. And having learned to read, the induce- 
 ments to use this power are almost irresistible. 
 But, unfortunately, much of that which is enticing 
 is baneful. The very citadel of the moral life of 
 the child is in many cases attacked, captured, 
 defiled, and ruined. The people are awakening 
 somewhat to the terrible evils which are preying 
 on society; but how to arrest them is not easy 
 to determine. There are books published which 
 should never come from the press. There are 
 papers printed which ought not to see the light. 
 Efforts are made to guard the mails from this evil, 
 but only with limited results. Something further 
 and different needs to be done. We speak of this 
 here from its relation to the subject discussed in 
 this chapter — the education through the press, the 
 wide-spread sociological power of the press over 
 human life. Solomon said, " Train up a child in 
 the way he should go and when he is old he will 
 not depart from it." This is the statement of a 
 principle which we may regard as universal. But 
 there are, practically, difficulties in the way of 
 perfect training because of the press — as well as 
 many other perverted agencies of power — of which 
 Solomon had no knowledge. We cannot keep the 
 child beyond the reach of public influences, and 
 vile literature has permeated almost every avenue 
 in which human life is found. 
 
 On the other hand, the press is a mighty power 
 used in behalf of good, and as such becomes a de- 
 
 275 
 
MAK-BUILDIJTG 
 
 cided factor in the building up of manhood. To 
 the extent that truth and pure and noble senti- 
 ments gleam forth from the printed page, they en- 
 ter into progress and make history that is worthy 
 of being immortal. The Church speaks through 
 the press, sending messages of warning, of mercy, 
 and salvation to the millions that would otherwise 
 perish. The Bible, scattered all over the earth, 
 tells of God, of immortality, of heaven for the 
 righteous, of hell awaiting the incorrigible sinner, 
 of Christ dying that we might live. And it is the 
 Sword of the Spirit through which the All-Father 
 finds access to the hearts of men. The religious 
 press in its various fields of operation visits the 
 Sunday-school, the fireside, the home of the toiler, 
 and the study of the sage ; the desk of the states- 
 man to awaken spiritual impulses ; the office of the 
 politician that he may understand that God is 
 greater than man ; it goes to the seeker after 
 wealth that the voice of conscience may be led to 
 give forth its warnings ; to the student that in his 
 learning he may realize that back of the universe is 
 the Eternal, the First Cause, and that over all men 
 there is a throne of power and infinite sovereignty. 
 Whatever be the field in which men are at work, 
 they depend on the press to carry forward their 
 projects. Science thereby records her discover- 
 ies ; industrial pursuits find in this a treasury of 
 knowledge and a guide to success. Without it the 
 schools would languish and die. Political parties 
 
 276 
 
THE PRINTED PAGE 
 
 do their largest work througli the printed page, 
 putting their appeals before the eye of every voter 
 from one end of the land to the other. Every inter- 
 est of the race wields the press as an arm of power. 
 AVe can scarcely conceive what we would be had 
 the printing-press never come into being. All 
 forms of power depend upon it, and every life is 
 moulded througli its agency. 
 
 A word of advice is here in place. Read — not 
 all that is printed — but the best. What is the 
 ** best " ? That depends on the end to be reached. 
 There is a moral "best," an intellectual "best," an 
 industrial "best," a "best" for information, a 
 " best" for training the imagination, a " best " for 
 scientific pursuits. Read wisely, with an end in 
 view. Eead nothing that will mar the life. Read 
 that which will promote intelligence, which will 
 train the powers of thought, which will exalt the 
 character, which will make you more philanthropic, 
 which will make you a better citizen, which will 
 enable you to get the most out of this life and 
 will interest you in the life which is to come. 
 
 877 
 
MAN-BUILDma 
 
 CHAPTEE LVIII 
 
 INFLUENCES OF TRAVEL 
 
 Nothing characterizes tlie present age more tlian 
 the restlessness which seeks in travel something 
 not possessed at home. This restlessness is not 
 always an impulse to flee from existing experiences 
 because of their lack of power to afford satisfaction ; 
 it may even grow out of a keen enjoyment of that 
 which makes up life. The student does not eagerly 
 push into new fields of thought because he is tired 
 of the old, but from a sharp appetite for truth. 
 But whatever may be the inspiring motive, man is 
 ever on the move, traversing new fields and enter- 
 ing into new experiences. The monotony of life, 
 at least, is dispelled ; fresh scenes are successively 
 encountered, and new impressions daily gained. 
 The world is outwardly enlarged, though not, per- 
 haps, alvv^ays intensively deepened. Views are 
 multiplied, possibly at the expense of the depth of 
 conviction of, or insight into, the content of that 
 which is more limited in scope. At any rate in the 
 case of the observant traveller the stock of infor- 
 mation is increased. With some persons this may 
 be at the expense of the action of the reflective 
 powers — facts taking the lead of philosophy, knowl- 
 edge rather than thought — but a groundwork for 
 
 278 
 
INFLUENCES OP TEAVEL 
 
 thought is laid ; in enlarged views there is a broader 
 foundation for a grand temple of truth, for a struct- 
 ure into which universal knowledge may be incor- 
 porated. 
 
 There are diverse forces in operation bringing 
 about diverse results. Climatic conditions, for in- 
 stance, are exceedingly varied. Nature in the trop- 
 ics is radically different from nature in the frigid 
 zones. One abounds in vegetation, the other is 
 almost destitute of it. In the former, man need 
 not labor, the earth is lavish of her gifts. Indo- 
 lence hence prevails, and mental apathy takes pos- 
 session of the life ; in the low civilization prevail- 
 ing there is the absence of great principles stirring 
 the mind, and government is rude and limited in 
 its provisions. 
 
 Physical, and hence mental, conditions rapidly 
 change as we trace either way from the equator tow- 
 ard the poles. Thus not only does climate supply 
 tendencies which are wrought into life and make 
 history, but unnumbered diversities in physical 
 configuration enter into the problem. We have 
 a world made of land and water, broken up into 
 myriads of divisions of every conceivable form — 
 continental masses, with mountain ranges, plains 
 and valleys, rivers traversing these great divisions 
 of land, and vast oceans covering a large part of 
 the earth's surface. From these unlike conditions 
 a historical variety, which is radically diverse in 
 arts, industries, and civilization, has sprung into 
 
 279 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 existence. We find there are cities for defence 
 amid mountain fastnesses ; commercial cities by 
 means of which the products of a continent make 
 their way to the sea. Eivers not only carry the 
 water from the heart of vast continental masses to 
 the great oceans which belt them, but they are the 
 highways of trade. Coast indentations become 
 seats of empire. Governments grow up around 
 industrial centres ; political ambitions take shape 
 according to nature's prophetic utterances ; prob- 
 lems of thought arising from local needs or ad- 
 vantages arrest the attention ; and we have a world 
 as checkered as the leaves of the forest in the 
 autumn sun. But each centre of civilization has 
 local features — partial, not universal. 
 
 The press tells us of these varied points of inter- 
 est, drawing the contrast as far as types can paint 
 the picture. But it can only give us the skeleton, 
 it cannot cover it with flesh ; it cannot put the tint 
 on the cheeks ; it cannot bring personalities in 
 touch with each other ; it cannot unfold the tone 
 of the voice and make the inner life real. No one 
 can to-day feel the heart-beats of the races as they 
 lived two or three thousand years ago. To read 
 one of Demosthenes's orations is much less than to 
 stand in the great assembly in elbow-touch wdth 
 the people, impressed by the important interests 
 which called them together ; listening to the words 
 of the matchless orator, seeing the emotions gleam- 
 ing in the eye and moving his features, yourself 
 
 280 
 
INFLUENCES OF TRAVEL 
 
 dwelling in the scene, yourself a part of it. The 
 past, however accurately described, will not come 
 back to us — only in shadows. What we read 
 about men and things, though valuable, is incom- 
 plete. We know the community about us only as 
 we come in contact with the people, hear the voice 
 as it speaks, feel the touch of the hand in the 
 greetings offered, engage in conversation, realize 
 what the problems are which stir the minds of 
 business men, of educators, or religionists, both 
 rich and poor ; see the people in their homes of 
 gladness and of sorrow ; come in contact with their 
 daily movements ; gaze uj)on the work they have 
 wrought, and witness the trend of community and 
 national life. 
 
 The mind grows by what it feeds upon, and in 
 the absence of food growth is arrested. It was 
 evidently God's purpose to lead forth our powers 
 through that which is external to our being. 
 From our earliest years the horizon of life is con- 
 stantly enlarging. It is first, the narrow circle of 
 home, then the neighborhood, then the state, the 
 country, and the whole world. In this process all 
 the senses are employed. It is an extension of the 
 primary methods of knowledge into wide fields, 
 carrying forward on a large scale that which has 
 been so successfully begun in early years. Much 
 is obtained in this way that cannot otherwise be 
 secured. Realities are perceived in their actual 
 settings. Impressions are gained which go down 
 
 281 
 
MAX-BUILDING 
 
 most deeply into the mind and abide as a posses- 
 sion of the soul. An inspiration for knowledge is 
 awakened which can in no other way be stirred 
 within us. 
 
 To illustrate : No one can obtain from the de- 
 scriptions of the press such a view of Paris as en- 
 ters into the being by spending a year or more on 
 its streets, in its assemblies, looking at its archi- 
 tecture, visiting its museums, talking with its peo- 
 ple, feeling the pulse of its social life, observing 
 its customs, sitting at its firesides, giving attention 
 to the political problems which arise from its his- 
 tory, and scanning the religious trend of the city 
 growing out of the crystallizations of the past into 
 the life of the present. He who would understand 
 Jewish history knows he must visit Palestine, walk 
 the streets of Jerusalem where David and Solomon 
 held their court, where that strange civilization of 
 exclusiveness grew into a spirit that has defied the 
 allurements and power of nineteen centuries of 
 time. A Chinaman is fully a Chinaman only as 
 he is in the midst of the traditional life of his own 
 native land, and swayed by the power of his ances- 
 tral religion ; where every foot of soil is as sacred 
 as the memory of his fathers who have entered 
 into the realm of the gods. The earth conceived 
 as 25,000 miles in circumference, comprising land 
 and water, with human beings born into the world 
 and spending here a brief period of time under 
 different forms of government, means to us much 
 
 282 
 
INFLUENCES OF TRAVEL 
 
 less than when this earth is traversed for inspec- 
 tion, when its mountains are climbed, its rivers are 
 traced, its varied home-life witnessed, its intel- 
 lectual status measured, its political systems fath- 
 omed. Philosophy read is one thing, but of far 
 more interest and significance when encountered 
 in the concrete personality of the living philoso- 
 pher himself who is possessed of its doctrines and 
 spirit. To hear Socrates talk would be to us inex- 
 pressibly more than simply to read the utterances 
 of his lips. One cannot read of the land of the 
 midnight sun so carefully as to convince him that 
 he has it all, that nothing further would await him 
 should he traverse its weird domain. A museum 
 gathered from all quarters of the globe, represent- 
 ing its minerals, its animal and vegetable treasures, 
 has its value, but is much like a hand severed 
 from the arm, a foot amputated from the leg. Nat- 
 ure must be seen in her habitat to be most in- 
 structive. God did not plan to save the world with 
 the Bible alone, but with the Bible in the hands 
 of the living messenger of salvation making his 
 appeals to the understanding and hearts of the 
 people. 
 
 We cannot easily estimate the extent of the 
 sociological forces on the life when permitted to 
 exercise their sway over us. They come from 
 every quarter of the globe and weave themselves 
 into our being. We cannot get beyond theirreach. 
 To escape them we must live in seclusion as the 
 
 283 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 hermit lives, give up locomotion, and anchor in the 
 soil like the plant that dwells alone. 
 
 Sociological influences, with their moulding pow- 
 er, are rapidly multiplying. All lands are being 
 merged into a community of life. Africa, the 
 "sealed continent," breaks its seal and all men 
 gaze into its hitherto dark recesses. Steam makes 
 the Atlantic and Pacific highways of trade, of travel, 
 and of thought. Electricity is not only the mouth- 
 piece of intelligence, but the propelling power of 
 commerce and the unifier of states. Railroads trav- 
 erse all plains, wind around the mountains, and 
 penetrate into hitherto unknown lands, carrying 
 the explorer and the man of business, introducing 
 the civilization of far-off countries. Siberia will 
 cease to be a dreaded penal colony, for the scream 
 of the locomotive awakens echoes among the hills 
 and mountains, and the hitherto isolated domain 
 is beginning to shake hands with the empires of 
 Southern Europe. Even China will lay down her 
 weapons of defence against the free commerce of 
 thought. Her ancestral religion cannot shut out 
 the railroad. No wall is high enough to success- 
 fully repel the instinct of intercommunication of 
 the peoples of the earth. With the increasing 
 commingling of races, national and individual dif- 
 ferences disappear, and all approach a common 
 status of life. Asia will be Europeanized, America 
 will more and more send back to the Old World 
 her ideas wrought out on this Western Continent. 
 
 284 
 
COMMEECE AND INDUSTEIES 
 
 All lands will come into a congress of thought, 
 and each human being will be a composite of uni- 
 fied but hitherto discordant forces of history and 
 civilization. 
 
 CHAPTEE LIX 
 
 COMMERCE AND INDUSTRIES 
 
 Commerce, scarcely less than production, is a 
 necessity of life. The forms of industry are almost 
 innumerable. No individual could handle them 
 all. For this diversity of operations there are 
 both mental adaptations and physical laws. The 
 rotundity of the earth, causing variety in climate ; 
 the distribution of land and water ; the diversity 
 of natural resources and their special localization 
 compel unlikeness in occupation. The digging of 
 gold is confined to the gold-bearing rocks ; the 
 mining of copper can be carried forward only 
 where there are copper deposits. Salt wells are 
 operated where there are saline strata, and petro- 
 leum is found in limited sections of the country. 
 Wheat lands are not always good grazing lands, 
 and the cotton prefers a southern climate. The 
 endless diversities of nature's products grow out 
 of special physical adaptations which are restricted 
 in their extent. 
 
 There is a diversity of tastes and talents which 
 
 285 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 leads to unlike employments. For some, agricult- 
 ure has special attractions, while others are more 
 at home in mechanical pursuits. One man chooses 
 the platform, another the bar, and another the 
 pulpit. Some delight in the painter's art, some 
 in handling the sculptor's chisel, and others find 
 their way to the sick-room to administer relief to 
 suffering humanity. The successful artisan might 
 make an indifferent farmer; and the able lawyer 
 a poor mechanic. The poet is not always a finan- 
 cier, and the prosperous merchant might fail as a 
 stock-raiser. 
 
 The result of unlikeness of tastes and talents, 
 and of localized natural resources, is a multiplicity 
 of industries, each pursued by a limited number 
 of individuals, and all interdependent for profit- 
 able consumption of products. The theory is 
 without foundation that society is the result of an 
 artificial compact ; that the people have consented 
 to a life of neighborliness because they have found 
 it to be profitable. There is a social instinct as 
 deep as life itself — a factor of life. Society is a 
 fundamental race reality not less actual, as we 
 have pointed out, than the existence of individuals. 
 But in harmony with this instinct — not a substi- 
 tute for it — there is a business dependence which 
 serves to bind, more strongly, the people together. 
 They cannot live apart if they would. Personal 
 animosities might work with terrible force to sep- 
 arate one from the other, but this alienation can- 
 
 2SG 
 
COMMEECE AND INDUSTRIES 
 
 not be complete, for each creates something the 
 other needs. To live in absolute isolation is to 
 drop to the lowest plane of enjoyment, and live a 
 life that is wholly iinprogressive. 
 
 Thus the race is a great trading community. 
 Each person produces one thing, or a few things, 
 and consumes many things. All forms of business 
 are linked together in a community of interests 
 which has never been dissolved. On the lowest 
 plane the laborer is a necessity to the capitalist, 
 and there must be capital in order that labor may 
 find employment. And getting above this plane, 
 away from the relation of employer and employee, 
 should it be held that each is an independent 
 producer, yet it is apparent that no one is an in- 
 dependent consumer. He may manufacture one 
 thing, but for bodily and mental wants he must 
 have many things ; and, indeed, the material he 
 uses and the machinery he handles, if at all skil- 
 fully made, must be the product of other industries. 
 The problem of rights in industry, and of improv- 
 ing the condition of the laboring man, is not a 
 problem of greater or less dependence, but of 
 special relations within the state of mutual de- 
 pendence. Many persons interested in social and 
 practical economics are looking for great changes 
 for the better through the introduction and action 
 of co-operative industry, in which a share in the 
 profits shall be substituted for wages now paid the 
 laborer. This dream may be realized, but inter- 
 
 287 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 dependence will not be lessened, it will be a change 
 of mode within a sphere of mutual dependence. 
 By co-operative industry there will be the removal 
 of the friction between labor and capital if co- 
 operation shall be equitably arranged. This would 
 destroy the ground of strikes, and be a great paci- 
 fier in the industrial world. How fully it could 
 be introduced cannot be positively stated, but 
 in any event the links binding us together must 
 remain, each must contribute to the well-being 
 of all. 
 
 Even combinations that are called trusts — which 
 are capable of doing much harm — do not dispense 
 with the community principle. They are monop- 
 olies that can override smaller aggregations of 
 capital, and crush out competition unless restrained 
 by wise legislation. The evil is not in the large 
 amount of capital invested but in the irresponsi- 
 bility, in its handling, to the individual citizen. 
 Now by increasing the facilities for production by 
 labor-saving inventions, for instance, capital is 
 increased. Any arrangement, indeed, which per- 
 mits a reduction of the pay-roll increases profits. 
 Society is to be congratulated that labor, because 
 of better machinery, more complete specialization 
 and improvements in transportation, is becoming 
 more profitable. The only thing to be feared in 
 these vast industrial movements is that the modes 
 of procedure shall transgress natural rights, that 
 many will not receive due share of the profits 
 
 288 
 
COMMEECE AND INDUSTRIES 
 
 which directly or indirectly they have helped to 
 create. All progress is liable to work some form 
 of temporary hardship. 
 
 These thoughts bring us back to the considera- 
 tion of the fact that the world is a great trading 
 community. Specializing in production we must 
 certainly exchange one with the other, and in- 
 creasingly we will exchange with all lands. With- 
 out it production must wane and indolence take 
 possession of our powers. Certainly it is true 
 that thus there could be no high grade of civiliza- 
 tion, no grand sweep of progress. The force of 
 this last statement will be appreciated when we 
 stop to consider that the industries of the people 
 are a great school. More thought has been be- 
 stowed on them than on anything else, than per- 
 haps on all things else. To obtain a livelihood ap- 
 peals to most persons as of the first importance. 
 Commerce, which, on a larger or smaller scale, is a 
 medium for possession, is an exchange of personal 
 efforts. Mental energies employed in produc- 
 tion and interchange is the great factor of in- 
 dustry. Each person in this mighty army of toil- 
 ers is trafiicking in thoughts, under plans formed 
 and schemes devised, with some intelligent pur- 
 pose in which life itself is at stake. It is mind 
 coming in contact with mind. Experience is 
 gained, intellect is sharpened, broad views are 
 gained, and we become what we are through this 
 intermingling of thought, this interchange of ob- 
 
 289 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 jects of desire. Life is wrought out in its develop- 
 ment by constant activity in the industries prose- 
 cuted. That which is about us in nature, and our 
 various talents and inclinations, determine the di- 
 rection of our energies, and the future brings forth 
 fruit from the special seed thus sown. 
 
 We must not fail to state more explicitly that 
 one of the most vital facts in sociology is that 
 business interdependence is not only a stimulating 
 but a conserving and binding force, establishing a 
 unity of life which nothing can permanently dis- 
 solve. Even when absorbing selfishness rules in 
 the breast we must help others, for thus only can 
 we help ourselves. He who pauperizes his neigh- 
 bor pauperizes his own being. To own everything 
 is to own nothing. Sharing with others is, even 
 on rigid business principles, increasing personal 
 gains. It requires more hands than our own to 
 supply our wants. Into the sum of our possessions 
 enters the labor, the creating energy, of the multi- 
 tudes of those who are toiling for their own good. 
 Social instinct might, perhaps, be overriden by per- 
 sonal malice, but completely to sever business re- 
 lations would be certain ruin. 
 
 Thus in the education of an individual the world 
 about him does and must participate. He does 
 not, he cannot live purely from within. Innumer- 
 able waves of influence and power beat in upon 
 him from without. He may select, but he cannot 
 bid defiance to them. Some employment he must 
 
 290 
 
CITY AND COUNTRY 
 
 have in relation with the world around him. If 
 conscientious, he will not choose that which de- 
 moralizes and works ruin. If wise, he will select 
 that which will be most abundant in fruit for him- 
 self and his neighbor. If generous, he will not 
 seek to live for personal ends only ; and he who 
 robs the community will, in some way, lose more 
 than he gains. 
 
 CHAPTER LX 
 
 THE CITY AND THE COUNTRY 
 
 Man works out his destiny on the earth ; this 
 must be his place of habitation. It cannot be a 
 matter of indifference as to the specific theatre of 
 his life, the problems he shall encounter, the 
 scenes through which he shall pass. There are 
 two radically opposite conditions, the dwelling 
 alone with nature, and the dwelling in the midst 
 of thronging multitudes of human beings. We 
 speak of the country and the city. No one can 
 profitably study the life of man in its development, 
 the outcome of his activities as an individual and 
 in national and race manifestations without taking 
 into account the environment within which he 
 spends his days. In the city the human is at its 
 maximum and nature at its minimum ; in the 
 country nature is at its maximum and the human 
 
 291 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 at its minimuin. On this contrast depend the un- 
 like results which appear and enter into life. In 
 this discussion we are concerned only wdth the 
 modifying influence of the theatre of our activities, 
 the bent which is thereby given to our education. 
 The object on which thought is employed and 
 the character and extent of the stimulus applied 
 are the determining factors in the modification 
 eft'ected in our being. Gazing with interest on 
 the immoral, making it a constant object of atten- 
 tion, debases the soul. Scenes which are pure and 
 lovely develop within us a state free from that 
 which is impure. That which tells of the accu- 
 mulation of wealth, suggesting at every turn the 
 making of money, increases, so far as it takes pos- 
 session of us, the greed of gain. To dwell amid 
 lofty mountains ; to spend our years in the pres- 
 ence of scenery that is grand, manifesting majesty 
 and power, is a training of the imagination, an 
 exalting of thought. The vast expanse of the 
 ocean, the limitless sweep of the prairie, broadens 
 our mental vision ; while with life shut up within 
 some contracted area, never looking out beyond 
 it, the conceptions of the mind are narrowed, the 
 import of language is reduced to its smallest con- 
 tent, and everything is shrivelled. To look upon 
 sorrow is to have sympathy inspired; to dwell 
 only in sunshine banishes sadness from the heart. 
 Adversity and prosperity work out opposite con- 
 ditions in both our mental and moral being. 
 
CITY AND COUNTRY 
 
 The city and the country do not diflfer so much 
 on the quantitative as on the qualitative side. 
 Nature, though full of life, has a restful life. Ex- 
 cept in movements such as we find in the foaming 
 rapids, the plunging cataract, the furious ocean, 
 the maddened stream — which manifestations of 
 power are not common — there is no rush or hurry. 
 In the budding spring, the growing summer, the 
 ripening autumn, there is no dash. The pulse of 
 nature beats silently, it never races at fever heat. 
 There is no cornering of the market, no combina- 
 tion to excite alarm. Everything is frank and 
 open to view. There is a fulness in nature, but 
 it is unlike the fulness of the city. The student 
 sees in the soil, in the growing plant, enough to 
 tax all his powers of research. The botanist finds 
 in the vegetable kingdom a wonderful laboratory 
 where the inanimate is transformed into the ani- 
 mate ; where the stateliness of the forest, the 
 beauty of the flower, the nutrition of the fruit, the 
 germ of the seed for the resurrection of life as the 
 seasons make their rounds, impress us through 
 the action of their astonishing forces. The zo- 
 ologist in the animal world is in the presence of 
 vast energies on a plane much above the vegetable, 
 where the organic puts on powers of locomotion, 
 is possessed of instinct and discriminative intelli- 
 gence, and renders service to man in unnumbered 
 ways. 
 
 The primary sources of knowledge are not large- 
 
 293 
 
MAN-BUILDTNG 
 
 ly in the city, but in the country. The soil with 
 its chemical forces ; the sunlight and rain acting 
 on these constituents to deTelop the plant; the 
 mountains condensing the moisture into rain- 
 clouds to feed the river systems ; the mines of 
 silver, of gold, of copper, and of iron adapted to 
 the uses of man ; the deposits of coal for the arts ; 
 the plant and the animal world which supply 
 problems without number for our solution, these, 
 with multitudes of other fields of study, are solicit- 
 ing our attention. The farmer can and should be 
 a scientist. Producing that which feeds the body, 
 the mind may be enriched day by day. He may 
 commune with nature, he may ask nature a multi- 
 tude of questions which she will answer, provided 
 he intelligently listens. Away from the bustle 
 and distraction of the great gatherings of men, he 
 may come close to the heart of God's own world, 
 and. hear divine voices which would be drowned 
 by the noisy confusion of the city. As that which 
 characterizes the city is bustle and strife, we have 
 in the country nature in her largest fulness ; themes 
 of thought which are suggested by the special 
 forms of industry there pursued, and the deep 
 things which God has hidden — or revealed? — in 
 his works. Sociologically, then, the country exerts 
 the smallest influence over us in shaping our lives, 
 but it supplies other forces which affect our des- 
 tiny. 
 
 As in the country we are face to face with nat- 
 
 294 
 
CITY AND COUNTEY 
 
 ure, in the city we are face to face with men. In 
 this respect the contrast is almost world-wide. 
 Human beings and human art constitute the city. 
 It is an aggregation of individuals and families 
 constructing for themselves homes, and reciprocal- 
 ly carrying forward industries by which they are 
 supplied with the necessaries of life. Aside from 
 this it is an entrepot of the products of the labor 
 of the country, a centre of trade and other forms 
 of reactive industries. The city is fed from the 
 country, but it sends back to the country products 
 which the country could not otherwise obtain. 
 
 It is apparent that the sociological forces of the 
 city are so marked as to make it a world, in almost 
 every respect, unlike the country. While the lat- 
 ter consists of broad acres, majestic forests, great 
 rivers, waving fields of grain, nature more or less 
 impressive, with here and there a human habita- 
 tion, the former is a concentration of the human 
 in life and apt, with nature almost shut out of 
 view. Yet the city because of this concentration 
 is not diminutive in the advantages it offers and 
 the impressions it makes, but is an aggregation of 
 power achieving tremendous results. As in the 
 focus of the sun's rays brought together by the 
 ^' burning glass " there is intense heat, so in the 
 city, life puts on energy, an intensity w^hich burns 
 its way into the heart of society and achieves 
 astonishing results. Indeed, the very grandeur 
 of the city is intense, moving us by an overwhelm- 
 
 295 
 
MAN-BUILDIXG 
 
 ing force. It is here that operations are carried for- 
 ward on a tremendous scale. As electricity scattered 
 through the clouds is powerless, but when it unites 
 its energies in a flash of lightning, it can rend 
 the mightiest oak and dislodge the rock from the 
 mountain summit, so human energies thrown into 
 one seething centre, develop power which is irre- 
 sistible in its sweep. Here are vast accumulations, 
 the fruit of man's toil, which awe us by their 
 grandeur. Here are mammoth mercantile houses 
 handling the products of all lands ; extensive pub- 
 lic works in which steam, electricity, compressed 
 air, and hydraulic power become the servants of the 
 human will. There are here great libraries con- 
 taining the learning of all lands and ages. Mag- 
 nificent churches are reared, where art takes on its 
 highest forms and beauty adorns that which is im- 
 posing. The heart manifests its tender sympa- 
 thies in great hospitals where every possible pro- 
 vision is made for the sick and the maimed. To 
 live amid that which man has wrought on such a 
 magnificent scale, is to come under human influ- 
 ences which make an indelible impression on both 
 the intellect and heart. The objects of thought, 
 the lines of thinking, are forced upon us by this 
 contact with that which is human. The evil and 
 the good both find in the city a wide field for the 
 display of their special energies. Vice hides from 
 sight more easily than in the country, and crime 
 flourishes in a most productive soil. While benef- 
 
 296 
 
CITY AND COUNTEY 
 
 icence here finds the most ample field for its em- 
 ployment, evil introduces the greatest havoc. The 
 young man who goes to the city will come to 
 realize that human nature reaches its grandest 
 heights, but also sinks to its lowest depths. Con- 
 science, sublime moral purposes may be an ade- 
 quate safeguard, but pitfalls are hidden beneath 
 his feet. Nothing less than a positive and un- 
 conquerable aversion to wrong-doing is needed 
 to direct his steps. 
 
 In the city we find the most active and deter- 
 mined competition in every great field of endeavor. 
 Will success crown our efi'orts? It is here that 
 man measures arms with his fellow-man. It is 
 almost wholly a competitive life. The ablest law- 
 yers, the most skilful physicians and surgeons, 
 the most astute politicians, the most eloquent 
 ministers, the sharpest tradesmen, the most capa- 
 ble builders, here have their home and do their 
 work. Largely to share in public favor and stand 
 among the first, requires talent, application, and a 
 will that is not easily overcome. In the country 
 there is scarcely any competition. He who ex- 
 pends almost untold treasures on his farm, in its 
 cultivation, on improvements, on houses and barns, 
 on walks and drives, in any form of ornamentation, 
 does not stand in the way of his neighbor's suc- 
 cess, who is getting his livelihood from the soil. 
 Nature will patronize the latter with sunshine and 
 rain not less kindly than the former. But wealth 
 
 297 
 
MAN-BUILDING ^ 
 
 can make a mercantile house in the city a centre of 
 trade at the expense of the less fortunate dealer. 
 Thus in the city, man, as we have said, is the great 
 factor, and despite all opposing plans and efforts, 
 to a large extent, we become what he makes us 
 to be. 
 
 The city is the home of extremes, the theatre of 
 successes and failures, successes which come from 
 association with men, and failures which man 
 forces on his neighbor. It is not the purpose of 
 this chapter to show how successes can be gained 
 and failures avoided, but to point to the fact that 
 the problem is a human problem, that human en^ 
 vironment is a major quantity. We succeed or 
 fail through relations with our fellow-men. 
 
 The problem of city life, educationally, morally, 
 and in municipal affairs, is one of the most com- 
 plex of all problems, than which there is none other 
 more vital. There are practical forces in operation 
 which cause an influx from the country into the 
 city. One-third of all the people of the United 
 States dwell to-day in cities, and if the past rate of 
 immigration to these great homes of art and trade 
 shall continue, before the first quarter of the twen- 
 tieth century shall be passed there will be 10,000,- 
 000, more than one-half of our population, living in 
 these congested centres. Yet there are indications 
 that a counter movement is taking place, a move- 
 ment from the city to the country, not of its gen- 
 eral population, but of its wealthier men. The 
 
 298 
 
POLITICAL FORCES 
 
 facilities for railroad travel, the large extension and 
 use of the telegraph and telephone, enable the busi- 
 ness man to have his home — not temporarily but 
 permanently — twenty, fifty or more miles away 
 from the city, without interference with his occupa- 
 tion. But this does not reduce the business of 
 the citj; it does not lessen the strife ; it does not 
 weaken the city's power, but rather extends the 
 city's suburbs, practically widening its influence. 
 The study of the growth, employments, and dis- 
 tinctively human forces of the cities of the world, 
 must bring into notice the influence of man over 
 man in the type of life that is lived, the civiliza- 
 tion that is made to prevail, and the dependence 
 mentally of each upon his neighbor. 
 
 CHAPTEE LXI 
 
 POLITICAL FORCES 
 
 Government is a necessity. It exists under a 
 divine order of society. Paul says, " The powers 
 that be are ordained of God." Government as an 
 institution is divine ; anarchy is Godless. This 
 much, at least, Paul means. But in its form gov- 
 ernment is human, the creature of human intelli- 
 gence. There are many things the individual can 
 do alone — with little or no co-operation. In man- 
 
 299 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 ual labor it is his own muscles at work. In the 
 gaining of knowledge there is the action solely of 
 his mental powers. The prosecution of business is 
 usually largely personal, with only an outward de- 
 pendence on others. A man keeps or breaks the 
 law of the land in his indiyidual capacity. Gov- 
 ernments, except when purely despotic — and these 
 we shall ignore in our discussion — are not the 
 creature of the individual, nor the organ of indi- 
 vidual action. They embody the will of the people 
 as a mass — the will of the people in their collective 
 capacity. 
 
 Political movements are pre-eminently co-op- 
 erative movements. They are the public — citizens 
 jointly — moving for the achievement of some end. 
 Whatever is done by the individual is usually in 
 harmony with the plans of a body of voters who 
 unite to effect some purpose in and through the 
 government. The effort made is to rally as large 
 a number of people as possible for the accomplish- 
 ment of such a purpose. In this Avork men stand 
 shoulder to shoulder, like the Macedonian army. 
 They form a solid phalanx ; if they triumph, they 
 triumph by force of numbers. A party is a politi- 
 cal unit, a portion of the whole, agreeing on the 
 tenets of their political faith. A platform is 
 adopted by a convention or accepted through the 
 operation of some special form of agreement. 
 This agreement is the party shibboleth on which 
 they appeal for votes. Every step taken recog- 
 
 300 
 
POLITICAL FOECES 
 
 nizes the public. To carry out party ends in a 
 representative government, men must be elected to 
 office. The first step is to hold caucases and con- 
 ventions, to put persons in nomination, then going 
 to the people to seek endorsement in the election 
 of the candidates that thus represent the party. 
 
 It would be difficult to point to anything else in 
 our experience in which the sociological exerts a 
 greater influence over us. The political press 
 stands for party, and whatever it says is in advo- 
 cacy of party dogmas. It is seldom that a discus- 
 sion of principles is simply to enlighten individ- 
 uals, but to draw them and bind them more closely 
 to the party. Campaigns are organized by party 
 leaders to influence votes. The people are called 
 together, speeches delivered, appeals made to rea- 
 son, to prejudice, to business interests, exalting the 
 merits of one party and decrying the other, all to 
 get the support of the majority. Printed docu- 
 ments are scattered through every state and com- 
 munity. A house-to-house canvass is made to 
 feel of the public pulse and influence the voters. 
 When the election day arrives special effort is made 
 to get out every citizen who is supposed to have 
 any party predilections. Whatever is done is for 
 the triumph of party. 
 
 In nothing else is there so complete a domi- 
 nance of the many over the individual. It is rarely 
 that opinions are independently formed. Leaders 
 shape the creed and the mass accept it as a whole, 
 
 301 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 without analysis. Generally the only question 
 raised is, What does the party hold to? Platforms 
 are constructed, in most cases, not to proclaim 
 eternal principles, but to secure the favor of cer- 
 tain industries, classes of people, or sections of the 
 country. It is not statesmanship, but party as- 
 cendancy, that is kept in view. And when a man 
 enters the ranks of a political organization he is 
 expected to stand by it eyen though a complete 
 change of front may take place. The party carries 
 and dictates the political creed of the individual. 
 To this there are exceptions, men standing aloof 
 when their convictions of policy have been set at 
 naught, but such cases are by no means common. 
 In politics men go in a body and keep step with 
 the procession. And it is not easy to break out 
 of the ranks. If it be done, the individual is 
 branded as a traitor, or at least is called a rene- 
 gade. All hopes of preferment must be surren- 
 dered, for he alone is "faithful" who clings to his 
 party rather than to principle. 
 
 In nothing is there more peril to free government 
 than in the tyrannj^ of party. There are many 
 ways of exacting submission to political dictation 
 which are ordinarily effective, and it is not until 
 these organizations completely betray public inter- 
 ests, or get out of harmony with movements which 
 appeal with great force to the public conscience, 
 that the bonds give way and the individual is set 
 free. In considering, therefore, the sociological 
 
 302 
 
POLITICAL POECES 
 
 forces which take hold upon human life, we dis- 
 cover their action in almost irresistible power in 
 the domain of politics and government. An in- 
 dividual alone is impotent, he puts on strength 
 only when he throws in his lot with others. 
 
 The necessity of government, and of right gov- 
 ernment, shows the importance of a general and 
 careful study of the principles which enter into 
 the structure of the state. Politics cannot be ig- 
 nored, but there should be thrown into it more of 
 intelligence, of conscience, and independence of 
 action. With more intelligence and conscience 
 there will be more independence. There is no 
 mission of greater usefulness than the right guid- 
 ance of the state. With us every citizen has a 
 voice in the management of public affairs, and that 
 voice should be lifted up in behalf of right that we 
 may enact just laws, that liberty shall not be 
 license but the ascendancy of reason in human 
 affairs ; that all shall equitably bear the burdens 
 which come from statehood ; that obligation shall 
 be seen to be co-ordinate with privilege — to bring 
 about the largest measure of happiness and good. 
 Selfish politics is a perversion of statesmanship. 
 The remedy is not to keep aloof from it, but to 
 make personal, intelligent power felt for its re- 
 generation and guidance. Thus will its influence 
 over the lives of the people be purified, and civili- 
 zation will be imbued with an ennobling spirit. 
 
 Educationally, much depends on the principles 
 
 303 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 upon wliich government is constructed, and upon 
 the policies pursued. A despotism is repressive 
 of rights, and hence deadens the inspiration for 
 action. The individual deprived of opportunity 
 to exercise political franchises, and freed from all 
 obligation to exert power in behalf of public good, 
 will not study the problems of statehood, he will 
 be quite sure to remain unintelligent in regard to 
 the great interests involved in civil aiBfairs. Should 
 he come to realize the wrong of despotism it is 
 almost certain that he will verge to the opposite 
 extreme of anarchy. In irresponsible power, des- 
 potism and anarchy — the despotism of the one 
 or the many — are near neighbors. The Czar of 
 Russia, on the one hand, and the Nihilist, on the 
 other, though standing at opposite extremes, are 
 alike in discarding responsibility. Lawlessness is 
 the legitimate result of irresponsible activity. In 
 such a case, might makes right. 
 
 Institutional government, in which there are 
 wholesome checks, great energy, but held to strict 
 accountability, in which every citizen is invested 
 with rights on which authority rests for its exer- 
 cise, puts the subject in the most favorable con- 
 dition for individual education in the broad range 
 of intellectual manhood. To be a citizen of a 
 country thus governed, is to possess advantages on 
 which the best life can be built as w^ell as to have 
 the highest security for personal good guaranteed. 
 A despotic land is fated to keep on a low level 
 
 304 
 
POLITICAL FOKCES 
 
 of intelligence as well as of recognized rights ; but 
 when civil power is in the hands of the people, 
 tinder equitable regulations for its exercise, the 
 trend is toward intelligence, and the political well- 
 being of the people. 
 
 Before closing this chapter we must not neglect 
 to say that there is much of harm done by pre- 
 vailing political methods. Partisan politics ex- 
 erts a wide-spread influence for the forming of 
 judgments on insufficient grounds. This engen- 
 ders either shallowness or insincerity. No politi- 
 cal campaign, no political movement, is carried for- 
 ward with perfect frankness. On the one side 
 truth is suppressed ; on the other it is greatly ex- 
 aggerated. If truths are uttered they are largely 
 half-truths, almost as pernicious as positive false- 
 hoods. Everything is done in the spirit of the 
 advocate, not of the judge. There is much reason 
 for the charge that the leaders are dishonest — this 
 certainly is true that most of them do not paint 
 the picture with all the colors that should be in- 
 troduced, or yet the colors employed are used in 
 excess and with misleading brilliancy. This is 
 seen in the partisan press, on the *' stump," and in 
 private electioneering work. The educational ef- 
 fect is not only a perversion of truth, but incom- 
 petency to form right and candid judgments. All 
 of this is greatly to be deplored. The public, 
 without being aware of it, comes under the sway of 
 these malign influences, and suffers at the core of 
 
 305 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 character. Governments we must have, and po- 
 litical forces must be employed, but the tyranny of 
 party needs to be set aside and political methods 
 reformed. This will be effected only by greater 
 intelligence as to public affairs, and the injec- 
 tion of more of moral integrity into political move- 
 ments through the spirit of the gospel of Christ. 
 It is a hopeful sign in these days that the num- 
 ber of citizens disposed to examine both sides of 
 political questions is certainly increasing. It is 
 ardently to be hoped that they will soon hold 
 the balance of power, and compel fairness of treat- 
 ment of all problems involving political interests. 
 
 The young man who surrenders himself to po- 
 litical ambitions and follows the methods which 
 now prevail, runs the risk of impairing his man- 
 hood; he puts himself in a flood-tide of forces 
 which are likely to sweep him far out to sea in his 
 moral character. Immovable moral anchorage is 
 needed for personal safety. 
 
 CHAPTEE LXII 
 
 THE CHURCH AS A SOCIOLOGICAL OEGANISM 
 
 The religious is a universal sentiment. No 
 nation or tribe has ever existed without it. It is 
 therefore fundamental in human life, and to dis- 
 card it in treating of man s nature would be the 
 
 306 
 
THE CHUECH A SOCIOLOGICAL OEGANISM 
 
 omission of an essential factor of his being. Intu- 
 itively the race has a conviction of a supernatural. 
 Christianity does not create this conviction, but 
 turns the gaze away from false gods to the " only 
 living and true God," revealed to us in the Bible. 
 The religions of the world have been a potent force 
 in human history, and Christianity, while it dispels 
 the irrational superstitions which have had so large 
 a place in religious beliefs, is not less effective in 
 turning our attention to supernatural things. 
 
 The energy of Christianity is in itself as a divine 
 spiritual force. " The excellency of the power is 
 of God, not of men." No external appliances or 
 human agencies can effect spiritual transforma- 
 tions. This, we hold, must come purely from 
 some divine act. Yet the spread of the gospel is 
 a great sociological problem. There is here a 
 human element as well as a divine force, and 
 through the human this divine force is applied. So 
 far as there is any uncertainty in the prosecution 
 of the work of saving men, it comes from that 
 which is human. 
 
 The Church has an organic life. It is a body of 
 men associated together for mutual religious help 
 and for the employment of means to carry the gos- 
 pel to others. The Bible is a treasury of truths 
 supplied the Church for its enlightenment and 
 guidance. In this word Jesus Christ is made 
 known to us as " God manifest in the flesh," bring- 
 ing a divine life to the world. That the nations 
 
 307 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 might know of Him and accept His offers of mercy 
 the ministry was instituted under this explicit 
 command, " Go ye into all the world and preach 
 the gospel to every creature/' with the positive 
 declaration that they who accept shall be saved. 
 This is the provision for the spiritual regeneration 
 of the world. Men preaching Christ! Angels 
 are not employed, and God does not carry forward 
 the work independently of human agency. Two 
 facts must be taken into the account : 
 
 a. The power is of God. 
 
 6. This power is exerted only in connection with 
 human co-operation. 
 
 These two facts must be considered together. 
 That the human is employed does not weaken 
 the evidence that a divine force is exerted. Yet 
 the human is made always to condition the divine. 
 We have no reason to believe that God transforms 
 the life of any man except through, or in con- 
 nection with, human agency. Power and pro- 
 vision conditioning the exercise of power are quite 
 distinct the one from the other, though each be 
 necessary for the other. The most perfect loco- 
 motive possesses no energy of locomotion ; and the 
 steam in which all energy resides cannot of itself 
 move the railroad traiu. But the locomotive holds 
 the steam energy in its grasp and connects it with 
 the train so that it can act upon it — this and this 
 only it does — and the train moves. The power is 
 all in the steam, but the locomotive is not less es- 
 
 308 
 
THE CHURCH A SOCIOLOGICAL OEGAOTSM 
 
 sential than the steam power itself for the accom- 
 plishment of the desired result. The cannon does 
 not hurl the ball out into space, and yet the ball 
 would not go were it not for the cannon. The 
 force is in the powder as it is converted into gases 
 in combustion. But you desire that the force 
 generated in the expansion secured should be ap- 
 plied at a certain point and only in one direction 
 — not in all directions — so the cannon is constructed 
 to restrain this expansive force on all sides but one, 
 concentrating it on a single line of action. The 
 powder does the work, but the cannon supplies the 
 condition in which alone the work can be done. 
 The lens does not set fire to the combustible sub- 
 stance when it brings the sun's rays to a focus. 
 The heat was all in the rays before they were 
 focalized. Its sole, but most important, office is 
 in bringing to a point that which before was scat- 
 tered. It does not make power, it utilizes it. 
 
 God is in the heavens. He is invisible to mor- 
 tal eyes. To Him all nations and peoples must 
 turn to receive the benefit of His saving grace. He 
 has therefore put in operation a scheme of human 
 representation. He has commissioned men to go 
 forth to proclaim His gospel to the peoples of the 
 earth. The work is to hold up Christ, to keep 
 Him in men's thoughts so that the divine Spirit 
 can get hold of the conscience to perform His 
 great work of transforming the life. 
 
 In stating that the power of the gospel is not 
 
 309 
 
MAIs^-BUILDIXG 
 
 human we do not, as we have shown, depreciate the 
 value of the human, we do not make it uninfluential. 
 The spread of the gospel, the extent of results 
 achieved, rests wholly on the fidelity and perfection 
 of the human through which divine power is ex- 
 erted. It will not be considered, then, a matter of 
 indifference who and what the minister shall be 
 who brings his message to the people. He who is 
 learned can achieve larger results than the un- 
 learned. Talent, scholarship, power of expression, 
 strength of personality, are of the highest im- 
 portance in the practical movements of the Church. 
 The gospel accomplishes its grandest work when 
 the ministry is most able, the appliances used 
 most rational, and the Church is most nearly per- 
 fect. It should be a matter of conscience to put 
 on the most of personal strength through study 
 and training for the work of the ministry. God's 
 representative should strive to reach the highest 
 grade of qualifications for his sublime calling. 
 The military ordnance in use to-day is far more 
 effective than that employed a hundred, or fifty 
 years ago, even with the use of the same powder. 
 This is not by the generation of more power, but 
 by its more complete utilization through improved 
 construction of the ordnance. The cannon of to-day, 
 to continue our illustration, is the cannon of the 
 past more highly educated. And surely human 
 agencies need not be less responsive to efforts for 
 improvement than the metal of which military 
 
 310 
 
THE CHUECH A SOCIOLOGICAL ORGANISM 
 
 ordnance is constructed. Scholarship commands 
 more of truth, eloquence presents it in a more ef- 
 fective manner, the greater ability to arouse at- 
 tention opens the way more widely for the entrance 
 of truth, so that with these favorable conditions 
 the message presented is sure to be more effective. 
 Writing up the influence of the religions of the 
 world, we w^ould be writing up largely the history 
 of the world. The power they have sociologically 
 exerted has been felt in every land, affecting every 
 interest of society. China is what she is because 
 of her religious dogmas. Her entire civil polity is 
 an outgrowth therefrom. The worship of ances- 
 try dwelling all about them has among the Chinese 
 held back every improvement, made progress im- 
 possible, and led to a type of life found nowhere 
 else among the nations of the earth. Judaism 
 built up a spirit of race exclusiveness which has 
 not given way through these two thousand years. 
 Buddhism is rest ; to not-be is the highest good ; 
 not to rise by individual effort, not to develop the 
 might of the personal, but to become lost or ab- 
 sorbed in eternal repose; this is antagonistic to 
 industry and repressive of personal ambition. 
 Divine sovereignty, with no place for the indi- 
 vidual will, would belittle man in the act of thus 
 exalting God, and free will without divine sover- 
 eignty would debase God. But divine sovereignty 
 joined with man's free will preserves the author- 
 ity of the Infinite, and makes man responsible for 
 
 311 
 
MAN-BUILDIXG 
 
 all his acts. Into every-day life our theology 
 penetrates, and every interest is affected thereby. 
 We call our civilization a Christian civilization. 
 That business is suspended on the Sabbath, with 
 a general conviction of the sacredness of the day, 
 not only indicates the existence of a religious 
 sentiment, but spreads over the country a religious 
 spirit. With this day come religious assemblies, 
 that which is secular giving way to that which 
 tells of God and an eternal future. Business 
 acknowledges subordination to that which is re- 
 ligious. No legal documents can be executed on 
 the Sabbath. No work that would interfere with 
 divine worship can be performed. And out further 
 than this legislation reaches. The law makes the 
 rights of religious bodies to church property as 
 absolute as of the individual. The President and 
 Governors appoint a day for special thanksgiving 
 to God, and the citizen thereon is exempted from 
 labor. The Chief Executive takes his oath of 
 office on the Bible as a divine Word. Chaplains 
 are appointed for the army, the navy, for congress 
 and state institutions, and paid from the pub- 
 lic treasury. All through our statehood there is a 
 recognition of God, and no one can live in this 
 land without coming under the influence of the 
 Church in his conception of duty, of rights and 
 privileges, and without gaining an education — 
 whether he connects himself with the Church or 
 not — in which the religious holds a large place. 
 
 312 
 
THE CHURCH A SOCIOLOGICAL ORGANISM 
 
 As through the order, machinery, and operations 
 of political affairs, society of which the individual 
 is a part, takes on some particular caste and gathers 
 in some particular type of spirit, getting an educa- 
 tion that is wrought into. the very warp of life, so 
 through the Church by means of the press, the 
 Sabbath, the pulpit, the Sunday-school, the meet- 
 ing for prayer, the Christian Associations, the state 
 recognition of religious verities, a religious life is 
 crystallized in our being and our education is far 
 more than the product of the schools. The Church 
 is a sociological organism established to act on 
 society, through human instrumentalities to influ- 
 ence and mould the body politic. 
 
 The life which the individual lives is the result 
 of unnumbered forces acting within him. Nature 
 speaks to us from the earth and sky. The soul 
 looks forth and catches inspiration from the phe- 
 nomena of the outer world. The industries with 
 which we must daily have to do, the companion- 
 ship of friends, the ambitions in the state, the 
 sublime realities in the spiritual world, the expe- 
 riences through which we pass, the desire for a 
 fuller knowledge of truth, the aspiration for that 
 which is good or the craving for what is evil, all 
 exert their power to make us what we are. Into 
 the midst of all these experiences and movements 
 comes the Church as a sociological agency to lead 
 the thoughts to religious realities, and model the 
 life of society according to a divine plan. 
 
 313 
 
THE GATHERED THREADS 
 
CHAPTEE LXIII 
 
 THE COMPLETE MAN 
 
 The complete man is not the completed man. 
 Man completed would cease to be man, just as 
 the river with its banks full of water, but receiv- 
 ing no new supply, is no longer a river, but a lake 
 or a pond. Manhood is less what the individual 
 is than what he is capable of becoming and seek- 
 ing to be ; less the content of life than the trend 
 of life. Complete manhood is a fulness of powers 
 and a right disposition for the use of the powers. 
 
 This treatise presents an analysis of the facul- 
 ties of a human being. There are powers of 
 cognition, energies of feeling responsive to the 
 action of intelligence, and executive powers for 
 the translation of intelligence and feeling into 
 action. There is thus a unity of life constituted 
 of diverse but co-operative mental forces. Associ- 
 ated with these forces, and dependent upon them, 
 but contributing to the realization of their pur- 
 pose, is a physical nature. Man is spirit dwelling 
 in a body which is both its servant and its mas- 
 ter, listening to the commands of the spirit and 
 supplying it with energies by which the pur- 
 
 317 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 pose of life may be realized, putting it in con- 
 nection with the outer world as a theatre for 
 personal action. Through the genesis of his 
 being he is a constituent of a race — in universal 
 humanity — with interests in common with the 
 race, with duties to perform, and subject to a re- 
 active influence, of that which is about him, on 
 his own life. He is the complete man, who per- 
 fectly fits into his environment, who rightly acts 
 upon it and employs his energies for the fullest 
 realization of the purposes of his being. 
 
 Intellectually this is not largely a question of 
 scholarship, of the extent of knowledge gained, 
 but of the ability to know and the reaching out of 
 the soul after knowledge. The thresher is as 
 actually a thresher before it does the work as 
 after the work is done. The steamer is not more 
 complete after it carries its precious load of life 
 across the sea, than before it leaves the port. The 
 man at twenty-five is as truly a man — though not 
 with as large a mental equipment — as at fifty, 
 provided the energies of his nature are as active, 
 his ambitions for achievement as great, and his 
 fidelity to truth and right as inflexible. 
 
 In genuine manhood, manhood of the largest 
 measure, there is a longing of the soul for knowl- 
 edge, an intellectual trend, positive and intense, 
 that is ceaseless in its pursuit of truth. Now, in 
 God's life there is the comprehension of all veri- 
 ties. As fundamental to Godhead there is infinite 
 
 318 
 
THE COMPLETE MAN 
 
 knowledge. If we are created in His likeness the 
 intellectual must be an active energy in the great 
 world of being. When these powers are employed 
 up to the measure of their capability, not falling 
 below a right estimate of truth, on this side of our 
 nature, completeness is manifested. The creation, 
 in the midst of which we are placed, is the fulfil- 
 ment of a divine plan, the unfolding and reve- 
 lations of the thoughts of God. If these thoughts 
 are important enough to be embodied in His works, 
 they are surely important enough to merit our closest 
 and eager attention. Indeed, we cannot account 
 for their existence except to supply the intellectual 
 wants of His creatures. God would not hold up 
 to our gaze a perfect system of reason, sufficient 
 to call into action all our energies of rational com- 
 prehension, and fitted to develop the inner life up 
 to its highest plane, did He not intend it for this 
 special end. Every individual drops just so far 
 below the life he was meant to live, as his knowl- 
 edge is meagre compared with his capabilities of 
 gaining it. 
 
 The complete man is not only intellectually pro- 
 gressive, but possesses sensibilities alive to the 
 world of truth and reality in which he dwells. He 
 sees beauty where there is beauty ; he is thrilled 
 by that which is sublime ; his heart responds to 
 all that is pure and noble; his sympathies are 
 aroused by every wail of distress, and joy glad- 
 dens his heart when fortune smiles upon those by 
 
 319 
 
MA^"-BUILDING 
 
 whom he is surrounded. Eight, justice, and mercy 
 awaken feelings of approval. The impulses of 
 his heart are as active and true as the intellect is 
 comprehensive. He scorns vice, he prizes virtue. 
 That which is lovely brings to him pleasure, and 
 every violation of the moral law gives him pain. 
 His heart is as broad as his intellect, and delights 
 in all that is good and spurns all that is evil. 
 Keenly alive to the moral qualities of every act, 
 his whole being spontaneously takes sides with 
 those who are right, generous, and true. The com- 
 plete man is manly, considerate of the feelings of 
 others, and responsive to all the calls of humanity. 
 Many persons fail to perform acts which reason 
 endorses and the heart approves. He only is 
 complete in his manhood whose steps do not lag 
 behind his reason, whose practical movements 
 keep up with his sympathies and his sense of 
 right. It is a charge carrying with it the fullest 
 condemnation when it is said, " Ye knew your duty 
 but ye did it not." In complete manhood two 
 qualities must characterize the will; it must be 
 quickly responsive to the intelligence of the indi- 
 vidual, and the action must not be less vigorous 
 than the occasion requires. A feeble blow in the 
 presence of a great emergency proclaims a lack, 
 fatal to symmetry of life. Conscience can be sat- 
 isfied only when duty is not only promptly, but 
 fully, met ; when the choice agrees w^th the con- 
 viction of the mind, and there is no hesitancy in 
 
 320 
 
THE COMPLETE MAN 
 
 making the decision that should be made; and 
 when the whole life puts its powers at the ser- 
 vice of reason and truth. Timid or feeble steps 
 court defeat. 
 
 We are not responsible for inherited physical 
 defects ; but we are responsible for improper care 
 of the senses through which we gain knowledge, 
 and for the impairment of the health of the body 
 which was intended to be the servant of the mind. 
 " Mens Sana in corpore sano " constitutes the 
 " summum bonum " of being. To trifle with bod- 
 ily powers ; to allow them to become the slave of 
 the passions ; to pervert their action from the pur- 
 pose for which they were given, is a sin against 
 both body and mind. Harmony with the high 
 office and strict purpose of the soul, is the only le- 
 gitimate function of the body. In the complete 
 man the body does not dictate to the soul, reason 
 is at the helm of life ; all the passions are in sub- 
 jection, and the harmony of movement is secured 
 by an attentive listening to the voice of enlightened 
 conscience. 
 
 God created each individual for a life here on 
 the earth, in the midst of social conditions, from 
 which he cannot lawfully withdraw. We are in 
 this world of human beings to share with them 
 great responsibilities. To disregard the interests 
 of others, in our activities, is to commit a grave 
 offence. The industries of life consist of labor 
 applied to capital. Capital is the excess of pro- 
 
 321 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 duction over consumption. Capital and labor are 
 mutually dependent, for capital is useless without 
 labor, and labor cannot find employment without 
 capital. No one is entitled to the designation of a 
 complete man who does not do the work of a man. 
 In some department of industry every person 
 should be employed. His capabilities represent 
 duties; they stand for obligations; and to shirk 
 obligations is to violate a moral law. He is faith- 
 less who does not contribute something — and to 
 the full extent of his powers — to the well-being of 
 the race to which he belongs in a social partner- 
 ship. Through each of us the capital of the world 
 should become greater in the line of physical 
 industries, or, at least, our fellow-men should be 
 helped in some department of life by the efforts 
 we put forth. Indolence is a crime against both 
 God and man. To live in the world, exhausting 
 its resources, is robbery ; to leave powers unem- 
 ployed which could contribute to the general good, 
 is reprehensibly to fail to carry our part of the bur- 
 dens of life. It is the duty of every individual to 
 do something toward the enriching of the world. 
 To labor for, personal ends only, shows incomplete 
 manhood. 
 
 There are political obligations resting on us, 
 which obligations are not fully met by our refrain- 
 ing to support the wrong; they require positive 
 action for the support of the right. It is by no 
 paeans a compliinent, which the indiviclviaj ^eeks to 
 
THE COMPLETE MAN 
 
 pay himself, when he says that he is not a poli- 
 tician, that he has nothing to do with politics. 
 Such a one asks the government to protect his 
 rights, and yet does nothing to contribute to the 
 ^strength and efficiency of government. He de- 
 mands unrequited service. He takes what he is 
 unwilling to pay for ; he is a constant debtor to 
 society. This is moral bankruptcy. 
 
 Not unfrequently as an excuse for irreligious 
 acts we hear a person say that he is not a Chris- 
 tian, that he makes no profession of a religious 
 life. Is the admission of a wrong or defect a 
 rational defence ? The highest of all obligations 
 is the religious — to honor God and promote the 
 supreme interests of the race. These impose on 
 us the duty of personal submission to divine au- 
 thority, and of co-operation with God to carry for- 
 ward the work of the regeneration of the race. 
 Complete manhood recognizes existing obligations, 
 and it carries with it an earnest desire to fulfil 
 these obligations. Not, what must I do, but what 
 can I do, is the spirit which prompts the per- 
 formance of religious work. 
 
 Without further enumeration we say that the 
 principle involved is this, that being a member of 
 the race it devolves on me to sustain fully the in- 
 terests of the race; sharing in the benefits of its 
 industries, receiving protection from the govern- 
 ment, blessed by the spread of Christian truth 
 and the prevalence in society of a Christian spirit, 
 
 urn 
 
MAN-BUILDING 
 
 being a recipient of unnumbered blessings through 
 and in connection with the life of the family of man 
 under a divine superintending Providence, it de- 
 volves on me as a man to do what I can to add to 
 the happiness and advancement of the people in all 
 their temporal and spiritual interests. To do this 
 I should train the life God has given me for the 
 largest measure of activity, and conscientiously and 
 eagerly devote the powers I possess, to the spread 
 of truth and the advancement of right. The com- 
 plete man fully fills the place he was intended to 
 occupy. In spirit, manhood is complete when it 
 presses on toward this goal. It is not the largest 
 achievement of desirable results thus far gained, 
 but the strongest purpose and the most intense 
 employment of powers to accomplish the good, 
 for which the energies of our being were created. 
 This is complete manhood. 
 
 324 
 

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